THE-  QUEST 
OF  •  LIFE 

CHARLES  -R-BROWN 


I 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

Dame  Judith  Anderson 


ir 


THE  QUEST  OF  LIFE 


Other  Books  by  the  Same  Author 


THE  CAP  AND  GOWN 

THE  MAIN  POINTS 

THE  MODERN  MAN'S  RELIGION 

THE  SOCIAL  MESSAGE  OF  THE  MODERN 

PULPIT 

THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  AFFAIRS 
FAITH  AND  HEALTH      » 
THE  STRANGE  WAYS  OF  GOD 
THE  LATENT  ENERGIES  IN  LIFE 


THE  QUEST  OF  LIFE 


BY 
CHARLES  REYNOLDS  BROWN 

DEAN  OF  YALE  DIVINITY  SCHOOL 


THE    PILGRIM    PRESS 

BOSTON          NEW  YORK          CHICAGO 


COPYRIGHT,    1913 
BY    LUTHER    H.    CAHY 


THE- PLIMPTON • PRESS 

[  W  •  D  •  O  ] 
NORWOOD-MASS-U-S-A 


TO  THE  GOOD  FRIENDS  IN  THE  FIRST 
CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH  OF  OAKLAND 
CALIFORNIA  WHERE  FOR  NEARLY  FIFTEEN 
YEARS  I  ENJOYED  THE  HIGH  PRIVILEGE  OF 
PREACHING  TO  A  MOST  APPRECIATIVE  CON- 
GREGATION, I  DEDICATE  THESE  SERMONS, 
IN  GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION 


A    FOREWORD 

THE  publishers  asked  me  for  a  group  of  sermons 
dealing  in  the  main  with  some  one  common  interest. 
In  my  other  books  I  have  followed  a  somewhat  differ- 
ent line  from  the  one  taken  here.  "The  Main  Points" 
is  a  study  in  Christian  belief.  "The  Social  Message  of 
the  Modern  Pulpit"  deals  with  the  application  of  re- 
ligious principles  to  industrial  conditions.  "The  Cap 
and  Gown,"  "The  Young  Man's  Affairs"  and  "The 
Modern  Man's  Religion "  were  written  chiefly  for  college 
students.  " Faith  and  Health  "  discusses  the  immediate 
utility  of  mental  and  spiritual  forces  in  gaining  and  keep- 
ing a  more  complete  and  reliable  physical  efficiency. 

The  sermons  in  this  volume  have  been  selected  for 
their  bearing  upon  personal  religion.  I  shall  be  glad 
if  they  help  to  light  the  way  for  the  open  mind  and 
resolute  heart  into  a  finer  experience  of  those  aids  to 
right  living  which  come  from  a  world  unseen.  They 
all  have  to  do  with  "The  Quest  of  Life." 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I     THE  QUEST  OF  LIFE 3 

II     WHERE  Do  You  LIVE? 21 

III  THE  VISION  OF  GOD 41 

IV  THE  CITY  THAT  LIETH  FOUR  SQUARE  .     .  59 
V     THE  POWER  OF  REQUEST 77 

VI     THE  RIGHT  FRONTAGE  IN  LIFE  ....  95 

VII  THE  MAN  WITHIN  THE  MAN  .  .  .  .  113 

VIII  THE  HIGHEST  FORM  OF  SACRIFICE  .  .  .  127 

IX  BROKEN  PLANS 143 

X  THE  MEASURE  OF  HUMAN  RESPONSIBILITY  161 

XI  THE  HIGH  OFFICE  OF  SYMPATHY  .  .  .  179 

XII  GREATER  THINGS  AHEAD 197 

XIII  THE    RELIGIOUS    LIFE    UNDER    CHANGED 

CONDITIONS 213 

XIV  THE  USES  OF  DISAPPOINTMENT    ....  231 
XV     THE  RANK  AND  FILE   .  247 


I 

THE    QUEST    OF   LIFE 


"  Seek  ye  the  kingdom  of  God  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added"  —  LUKE  xu,  31. 


THE   QUEST    OF   LIFE 

THE  quest  of  life  — it's  "what  all  the 
world  's  a-seeking."  People  everywhere 
want  to  see  life.  They  want  to  know  life.  They 
want  to  possess  life.  They  are  eager  to  feel 
themselves  alive  —  alive  at  all  points,  alive  in 
the  most  effective  and  enjoyable  ways. 

The  novel  is  read  by  the  many,  the  scholarly 
essay  by  the  few,  because  people  feel  that  the 
story  shows  them  life  in  a  more  direct  way. 
The  theater  makes  a  wide  appeal  and  the 
thoughtful  lecture  a  narrow  one  because  people 
feel  that  the  play  on  the  stage  shows  them  life. 
The  cheap  moving-picture  show  lords  it  over 
the  art  gallery  in  popular  interest  because  in 
the  former  the  pictures  seem  to  have  life  — 
they  move.  Everywhere  it  is  the  same.  The 
people  want  to  see  life,  to  know  life,  and  to 
possess  life.  It  is  the  universal  quest. 

Now  there  is  One  who  is  competent  to  direct 
us  in  this  quest.  "  In  him  was  life."  How- 
ever it  came  about,  whatever  our  theological 
presuppositions  may  be,  we  all  recognize  the 
fact  that  in  him  there  was  life  without  qualifi- 
cation, life  abundant,  life  eternal. 

[3] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

He  had  an  abounding  physical  life.  We  do 
not  read  of  his  ever  being  ill  for  an  hour.  He 
moved  about  diffusing  health.  He  took  the 
sick,  the  crippled,  the  leprous  by  the  hand  fear- 
lessly and  lifted  them  up. 

He  had  presence  and  personality.  He  en- 
tered the  temple  and  finding  it  full  of  noisy, 
dickering,  cheating  traders  rose  up  in  his  in- 
dignation and  drove  them  out  single-handed. 
It  requires  some  personal  force  to  drive  a  lot 
of  Jews  out  of  a  place  where  they  are  making 
money.  When  he  was  at  Nazareth  the  people 
were  angry  because  he  had  rebuked  them. 
They  sought  to  thrust  him  over  the  edge  of 
the  cliff.  But  he  calmly  passed  through  their 
midst,  overawing  them,  and  went  his  way. 
Not  a  man  of  them  dared  touch  him.  When 
the  chief  priests  sent  their  officers  to  arrest  him 
the  men  came  back  empty-handed.  "  Why 
have  ye  not  brought  him?  "  They  could  not. 
When  Pilate  examined  him  and  found  no  fault 
in  him,  he  cried  out,  l  *  Behold  the  man  ' '  — 
Pilate  had  never  seen  a  man  before.  When 
the  final  crash  came  the  scribes  and  Pharisees 
did  not  dare  to  lay  hands  upon  him  until  they 
had  skillfully  secured  the  backing  of  the  Roman 
government  on  the  trumped-up  charge  of  trea- 
son. He  had  presence  and  personality.  "  In 
him  was  life,"  and  men  stood  in  reverence 
before  that  august  manifestation  of  "  life." 

He  had  mental  life.  He  saw  clearly;  he 
spoke  as  never  man  spake.  He  lived  before 
the  age  of  printing ;  books  there  were  none  and 

[4] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

manuscripts  were  scarce,  yet  he  uttered  say- 
ings so  profound  that  nineteen  centuries  of 
thinking  have  not  as  yet  dropped  their  plumb- 
line  to  the  bottom  of  them.  He  uttered  the  final 
word  touching  many  important  interests.  He 
said  the  governing  principle  of  social  life  should 
be  this,  "  Love  one  another  as  I  have  loved 
you."  That  leaves  nothing  more  to  be  said 
—  it  is  a  final  word.  He  said  the  goal  of  moral 
aspiration  was  to  be  this  —  "Be  ye  therefore 
perfect  even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  per- 
fect." Here  also  is  a  final  word.  He  spoke  of 
that  widespread,  age-long  habit  of  prayer  and 
said,  "  When  ye  pray,  say  '  Our  Father.'  " 
We  are  children  at  home  in  our  father 's  house ; 
the  ultimate  force  in  the  universe  is  parental 
in  character.  We  are  to  take  that  attitude  and 
hold  it.  Here  also  is  a  final  word  on  the  sub- 
ject of  prayer.  He  knew  what  was  in  man, 
what  was  in  all  these  varied  human  interests, 
and  needed  not  that  any  should  tell  him.  His 
mind  was  alive  and  rich. 

He  had  spiritual  life.  He  challenged  his 
enemies,  "  Which  one  of  you  convicteth  me  of 
sin!  "  No  man  did;  no  man  could.  His  life 
was  stainless.  "I  do  always  those  things 
which  please  the  Father,"  he  said.  It  was  no 
passive,  pallid  innocence  which  he  showed  — 
it  was  a  positive,  massive,  militant  type  of 
goodness.  "  I  come  to  do  the  will  of  him  who 
sent  me,"  —  and  he  did  it.  He  could  say 
boldly  to  the  noblest  man  and  to  the  purest 
woman,  "  Follow  me."  In  all  the  centuries 

[5] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

since  human  aspiration  has  never  reached  the 
point  where  it  felt  impelled  to  turn  away  from 
him  toward  some  more  perfect  embodiment  of 
the  ideal.  He  claimed  to  manifest  the  divine  — 
'  *  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father. ' ' 
And  the  highest  thought  of  God  the  human 
mind  and  heart  have  ever  grasped  has  been 
the  thought  of  "  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  "  manifested  in  terms  of 
his  own  matchless  life.  "  In  him  was  life," 
—  life  complete,  abundant,  eternal ;  and  to  this 
hour  that  life  is  the  light  of  men. 

He  will  be  competent  to  direct  us  in  our 
quest  of  life.  Let  us  ask  him  then  what  it 
means  to  live. 

In  the  passage  where  the  text  stands  Jesus 
indicated  plainly  the  folly  of  seeking  life  in 
the  contents  of  a  building.  "  The  ground  of 
a  certain  rich  man  brought  forth  plentifully." 
He  was  embarrassed  by  lack  of  room  to  house 
his  good  things.  He  decided  to  pull  down  his 
barns  and  build  greater.  When  he  had  filled 
those  big  barns  to  the  eaves  with  good  things 
he  said  to  his  soul,  "  Take  thine  ease;  eat, 
drink,  be  merry  —  thou  hast  enough  laid  up  to 
last  for  years." 

The  foolish  man  thought  that  life  could  be 
gained  from  the  contents  of  a  barn,  or  a  bank, 
or  some  such  building,  provided  only  it  be  large 
and  well  filled.  God  called  him  "  a  fool." 
When  he  awoke  in  the  clearer  light  which  fol- 
lowed upon  that  night  when  his  soul  was  re- 
quired of  him,  he  called  himself  ' '  a  fool. ' '  The 

[6] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

thoughtful  part  of  the  world  to-day  calls  him 
'  *  a  fool. ' '  No  man  can  gain  life  by  possessing 
himself  of  the  contents  of  a  big  building. 

There  are  two  reasons  for  this  —  first,  the 
material  is  not  adequate.  "  A  man's  life  con- 
sisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  that 
he  possesseth."  Life  is  not  made  of  things. 
It  uses  them.  The  Heavenly  Father  knows  that 
we  have  need  of  certain  things,  food,  raiment, 
shelter  and  the  like,  but  life  transcends  all 
these.  The  millionaire  is  not  necessarily  pos- 
sessed of  life  because  he  owns  more  food,  more 
clothes,  more  houses,  more  things  generally 
than  any  of  the  rest  of  us.  His  real  life  does 
not  consist  of  the  things  he  can  buy  and  own. 
Man  lives  by  bread,  but  not  by  bread  alone, 
be  it  ever  so  abundant.  If  the  bread  should 
become  cake  and  wine,  terrapin  and  canvas- 
back  duck,  with  all  the  other  luxuries  conceiv- 
able, still  the  man  could  not  live  by  these  alone. 
Men  may  build  their  buildings  and  pull  them 
down  and  build  greater.  They  may  fill  these 
buildings  to  the  eaves  with  things  laid  up  for 
many  years,  but  the  fact  stands  that  life  is 
not  sustained  solely  nor  mainly  by  things. 

Here  are  two  people  who  find  the  sweetest 
joy  in  life  in  a  certain  rare  companionship.  In 
an  ascertained  congeniality  of  mind,  in  a  satis- 
fying sympathy  of  purpose,  in  an  ennobling 
affection  which  has  come  to  possess  their 
hearts,  they  find  life  which  is  life  indeed. 
They  may  possess  ten  barns,  or  two,  or 
none;  they  may  possess  an  abundance  of 

[7] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

things  or  just  enough  for  their  needs;  in 
either  case  their  entrance  into  life  is  indepen- 
dent of  the  scale  of  their  possessions.  When 
they  are  together  and  know  the  touch  of  life 
on  life  with  its  blending  of  interest  they  have 
bread  enough  and  to  spare.  And  whether  that 
sense  of  fellowship  is  between  two  finite  spirits 
or  between  a  finite  and  the  Infinite  Spirit  there 
is  something  enjoyed  which  utterly  transcends 
the  world  of  things.  Look  not  for  life  in  the 
contents  of  a  building  —  you  will  not  find  it 
there. 

Furthermore,  our  tenure  of  things  is  too  un- 
certain for  us  to  find  real  life  in  the  contents  of 
a  building.  When  the  foolish  man  had  built 
his  big  barns  and  filled  them,  this  word  came  — 
it  always  comes  —  * '  This  night  thy  soul  shall 
be  required  of  thee:  then  whose  shall  those 
things  be?  " 

Whose  indeed!  He  had  staked  his  life 
on  a  collection  of  things.  Now,  in  one  brief 
hour,  they  were  gone!  They  were  no  longer 
his. 

"  How  much  did  he  leave?  "  one  man  asked 
another  as  they  took  their  seats  in  the  car. 
"  He  left  all  he  had,"  was  the  reply.  If  that 
were  actually  true,  then  his  life  was  a  tragedy. 
He  may  have  had  things  in  abundance,  but  if 
that  was  all  he  had,  if  he  lacked  those  qualities 
of  mind  and  heart  which  alone  have  permanent 
worth,  if  he  had  made  no  accumulation  of 
Christian  character,  if  he  had  written  no  record 
of  unselfish  service,  his  life  was  a  tragedy. 

[8] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

Alas  for  the  man  who  is  compelled  to  leave  all 
he  has,  for  our  tenure  of  things  is  insecure! 

There  is  only  one  form  of  possession  where 
our  tenure  is  sure.  There  is  only  one  thing 
which  no  man  is  ever  compelled  to  leave  be- 
hind, and  that  is  himself.  ]Je  taj^es  his  own 
qualities  of  mind  aad  he_art,  his  own  measure 
qf^  character,  his  owji  rgcoid  of_  usefulness  or 
the  reverse  with  him  wherever  hg  goes.  That 
single  fact  becomes  his  highest  reward  or  his 
sorest  penalty.  No  man  is  good  company  for 
himself  permanently  unless  he  is  a  man  with 
the  peace  and  the  promise  of  Christian  faith. 

We  read  that  "  Judas  went  out,  and  it  was 
night."  It  was  always  night  from  that  hour, 
whenever  and  wherever  Judas  went  —  for 
Judas.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  have  a  traitor 
in  the  room.  There  was  always  a  traitor 
present  wherever  Judas  went.  He  left  his 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  behind,  but  he  took  the 
traitor  with  him  into  the  unseen  world.  The 
tenure  of  things  is  insecure:  the  only  sure 
hold  that  any  man  has  is  upon  his  own  inner 
life  as  it  lies  open  to  the  eye  of  God. 

There  comes  an  hour  —  it  is  not  far  away  for 
the  youngest;  it  is  there  at  the  door  for  some 
of  us  —  when  all  that  any  man  is  worth  is  the 
good  he  has  done  and  the  character  he  has 
won.  No  matter  what  Bradstreet  says.  Though 
the  chamber  of  commerce  may  adjourn  on  the 
day  of  his  funeral  and  all  the  flags  of  the  city 
fly  at  half-mast,  all  that  the  man  is  worth  is 
the  good  he  has  done  and  the  character  he  has 

[9] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

won.  And  that  is  the  real  worth  of  every  man 
all  the  time.  It  is  all  that  any  man  is  worth 
at  any  time. 

Therefore,  because  that  hour  cometh  and  now 
is,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  do  good;  follow 
him;  provide  bags  that  wax  not  old;  lay  up 
treasure  where  neither  moth  nor  rust,  neither 
thieves  nor  disease  break  through.  In  a  word, 
be  rich  toward  God  if  you  would  have  life 
which  is  life  indeed. 

In  the  second  place,  Jesus  indicated  the 
futility  of  an  anxious,  fretful  quest  of  life. 
"  Be  not  anxious  for  your  life,  what  ye  shall 
eat  or  what  ye  shall  wear.  The  life  is  more 
than  meat ;  it  is  more  than  raiment.  Consider 
the  ravens,  they  neither  sow  nor  reap,  yet  God 
feeds  them.  Consider  the  lilies,  they  neither 
toil  nor  spin,  yet  God  clothes  them.  Are  ye 
not  much  better  than  they?  Your  Heavenly 
Father  knows  that  ye  have  need  of  all  these 
things.  Therefore  be  not  anxious,"  in  your 
quest  of  life, '  *  neither  be  ye  of  doubtful  mind. ' ' 

How  strange  those  words  sound  when  we 
take  them  at  their  full  face  value!  I  am  not 
thinking  now  of  those  poor  unfortunates  to 
whom  existence  is  a  daily,  hourly  struggle. 
I  am  thinking  of  those  who  are  fairly  well  to 
do.  Be  not  anxious!  Why,  some  of  you  are 
worried  within  an  inch  of  your  lives  over  these 
questions  of  food  and  raiment  with  the  present 
cost  of  living.  What  shall  we  eat?  How  much 
of  it  and  how  costly  shall  it  be?  How  expen- 
sive shall  we  make  the  dining-room  where  we 

[10] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

eat  it,  and  the  kitchen  where  it  is  prepared? 
How  much  shall  we  spend  on  the  linen  and  the 
china,  the  silver  and  the  cut  glass  we  use  in 
getting  it  down  our  throats?  How  many  ser- 
vants shall  we  keep  tcf  cook  it  and  to  serve  it? 
This  question  of  eating  and  of  getting  the  bills 
paid  is  a  tremendous  question!  We  cannot 
treat  it  as  of  small  importance,  as  if  we  were 
so  many  ravens.  We  live  in  a  state  of  chronic 
anxiety  over  this  matter  of  eating,  with  all 
its  implications. 

"  What  shall  we  put  on?  "  And  what  is  still 
more  vital,  how  will  it  look  when  we  get  it 
on?  How  numerous  and  how  costly  shall  our 
garments  be  ?  What  shall  be  the  style  and  make 
of  them?  How  much  of  ornament  —  jewels, 
feathers,  ribbons,  and  what  not  —  shall  we  add 
for  our  further  beautifying?  And  what  shall 
we  wrap  around  ourselves  in  the  way  of  houses, 
furniture,  and,  all  the  other  trappings  of  life  — 
for  a  man's  house  is  merely  a  garment  which 
he  wears  at  night  and  in  the  winter,  when  it 
rains,  and  whenever  he  is  indoors.  In  a  word, 
how  costly  shall  this  whole  outer  shell  of  ours 
be  made?  Many  people  are  kept  on  a  constant 
tension,  wearing  themselves  out  before  their 
time  over  this  question,  "  What  shall  we  put 
on?" 

The  Master  saw  this  fret  and  fuss.  He  there- 
fore undertook  to  turn  men's  minds  away  from 
that  which  is  secondary  to  that  which  is  pri- 
mary. What  shall  I  eat?  It  is  a  necessary 
question,  but  it  is  secondary.  There  is  an- 

[11] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

other  question  to  be  answered  first.  The  pri- 
mary question  is,  Am  I  worth  feeding?  Is  it 
important  that  I  should  be  kept  alive?  Does 
the  world  particularly  need  a  man  of  my  type? 
The  life  is  more  than  meat.  The  question  as 
to  the  quality  of  the  life  takes  precedence  over 
the  question  of  meat  to  feed  that  life. 

What  shall  I  put  on?  If  I  am  going  into 
society  I  must  put  on  something.  But  that 
question  also  is  secondary.  Is  it  important  that 
I  should  go?  Will  society  be  any  happier, 
any  wiser,  any  better  because  I  am  there? 
This  is  the  primary  question.  The  inner  life 
is  of  more  importance  than  all  questions  of 
raiment.  Therefore  Jesus  said  in  effect,  "  Be 
not  anxious  in  your  quest  of  life  what  ye  shall 
eat  and  wear  —  seek  first  that  which  is 
fundamental. ' ' 

In  the  third  place  he  indicated  the  true  prin- 
ciple for  the  attainment  of  real  life.  "  Seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added."  Now  just  what  does  that 
mean?  Not  in  theological  patois  or  in  eccle- 
siastical dialect,  but  in  plain  English,  what 
does  it  mean? 

The  kingdom  of  God  is  not  a  far-away  celes- 
tial state  of  reward  to  which  a  few  people  go 
when  they  die.  It  is  not  an  ecclesiastical  en- 
closure over  here  somewhere,  quite  apart  from 
the  common  interests  of  food  and  clothing,  in- 
habited solely  by  a  few  people  of  pietistic  habit. 
It  is  not  a  subtle,  peculiar  style  of  personal 
experience  to  be  attained  only  by  a  few  rare 

[12] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

temperaments.  The  kingdom  of  God  stands 
for  that  whole  section  of  life  which  owns  and 
obeys  the  sway  and  rule  of  the  divine  spirit 
manifested  in  Jesus  Christ.  That  is  the  king- 
dom of  God!  It  is  personal  and  it  is  institu- 
tional; it  is  visible  and  it  is  invisible;  it  is 
present  as  a  moral  achievement,  and  it  lies  in 
the  future  as  an  ultimate  ideal.  That  entire 
section  of  human  interest  which  strives  to  obey 
the  spirit  which  was  in  him  constitutes  the 
kingdom  of  God. 

Now  in  your  quest  of  life  seek  that !  Seek  it 
first  in  your  own  heart.  Seek  it  at  all  those 
points  where  your  life  impinges  upon  the  lives 
of  your  fellows.  Seek  it,  if  you  are  an  em- 
ployer, in  the  treatment  of  those  other  lives 
which  are  bound  up  with  yours  in  that  enter- 
prise which  enables  you  to  eat  and  drink.  Ask 
yourself  point  by  point  as  you  make  up  your 
mind  about  wages  and  hours,  about  the  con- 
ditions of  employment  and  the  distribution  of 
values,  what  the  rule  of  the  divine  spirit  would 
mean  here.  Seek  it  in  the  place  and  part  you 
hold  in  the  whole  organized  life  of  the  com- 
munity. In  all  those  common  relationships 
which  are  the  warp  and  woof  of  human  ex- 
istence say  to  him,  ' '  Thy  kingdom  come  ' '  — 
come  here,  come  now!  "  Thy  will  be  done 
here  as  it  is  done  in  heaven."  For  as  surely 
as  God  lives,  if  you  seek  that  sublime  quality 
of  life,  you  will  find;  and  all  things  needed 
will  be  added. 

To  seek  the  kingdom  of  God  is  to  live  out 
[13] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

the  law  of  one's  own  being.  It  is  to  fulfill  the 
deeper  purpose  of  human  existence.  It  is  to 
attain  self-realization  on  higher  levels  and  in 
fuller  measure.  And  when  any  man  seeks  the 
kingdom  of  God  by  living  out  the  law  of  his 
own  being  in  personal  and  social  terms  he 
makes  his  quest  of  life  successful. 

Jesus  announced  this  fundamental  principle 
and  then  proceeded  to  illustrate  it.  He  pointed 
to  the  birds  and  the  flowers.  Consider  the 
ravens,  they  neither  sow  nor  reap,  they  have 
neither  storehouse  nor  barn,  yet  God  feeds 
them.  Consider  the  lilies,  they  neither  toil  nor 
spin,  yet  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  never 
so  well  dressed  as  one  of  these  wild  flowers. 
How  much  better  are  ye  than  they !  Why  then 
are  ye  anxious  ? 

You  have  heard  beautiful  sermons  preached 
from  this  passage.  Young  men  in  white  ties 
held  before  you  the  loveliest  ideals.  They 
told  you  to  "  consider  the  lilies."  The  lilies 
neither  toil  nor  spin;  they  neither  fret  nor 
fuss  —  they  just  ' '  grow. ' '  And  you  thought 
of  the  utter  futility  of  trying  to  put  that  into 
practice.  You  thought  of  going  to  your  place 
of  business  with  its  thousand  cares,  or  to  your 
housekeeping  with  its  thousand  and  one  cares, 
or  to  your  schoolroom  full  of  restless  urchins 
not  eager  to  be  educated  but  looking  upon  you 
as  the  common  enemy,  or  to  your  complaining 
patients  full  of  their  whims  and  conceits !  What 
could  a  lily,  neither  toiling  nor  spinning  but 
avoiding  all  fret  and  fuss,  accomplish  there! 

[14] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

And  in  the  face  of  the  demands  made  you  de- 
cided that  the  principle  would  not  work.  You 
decided  that  you  could  not  be  a  lily  and  accom- 
plish your  task.  And  you  threw  the  young 
man's  sermon  and  the  lovely  picture  in  this 
passage  out  of  the  window.  You  regarded  it 
as  a  bit  of  sentimental  idealism,  uttered  by 
some  oriental  dreamer,  and  entirely  unsuited 
to  this  busy,  bustling  world  of  ours. 

But  you  missed  the  point!  The  lily  does 
not  toil  nor  spin.  It  was  not  made  to  toil  and 
spin.  It  does  the  things  it  was  made  to  do.  It 
lives  out  the  law  of  its  being;  it  fulfills  the 
purpose  of  its  creation;  it  attains  to  its  own 
self-realization;  it  seeks  the  kingdom  of  God. 

The  lily  is  not  idle.  It  reaches  down  steadily 
with  its  roots  into  the  soil  that  it  may  claim 
its  nourishment.  It  opens  its  leaves  to  the  rain 
and  dew.  It  looks  up  into  the  face  of  the  sun 
for  the  light  and  warmth  needed  for  the  flow- 
ering forth  of  its  own  inner  beauty.  It  lives 
out  its  lilyhood,  riot  fretfully  but  energetically, 
and  God  clothes  it  with  a  beauty  which  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory  never  reached.  Out  of  the  black 
mud  where  it  grows  the  lily  forms  a  flower 
white  and  fair  which  the  loveliest  woman  might 
wear  for  her  adornment. 

The  ravens  do  not  sow  nor  reap.  They  were 
not  made  to  sow  and  reap.  They  feel  no  mys- 
terious impulses  within  impelling  them  to  build 
storehouses  and  barns.  They  do  the  things 
they  were  made  to  do.  They  live  out  the  law 
of  their  being.  They  fly  to  and  fro,  keen  of 

[15] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

eye  and  swift  of  wing;  and  when  they  seek 
in  this  way  for  their  self-realization,  in  the 
great  abiding  order  which  enfolds  them,  they 
are  fed.  They  live  out  their  ravenhood,  not 
fretfully  nor  anxiously,  but  with  a  serene  trust, 
and  God  feeds  them. 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  principle  capable  of 
universal  application!  Live  out  your  man- 
hood; live  out  your  womanhood!  Do  the 
things  you  were  made  to  do.  Be  true  to  the 
law  of  your  being.  Seek  your  self-realization 
on  the  highest  levels.  You  will  not  leave  off 
toiling  and  spinning  —  you  were  not  made  to 
be  lilies.  You  will  not  give  up  sowing  and 
reaping  —  you  are  not  meant  to  be  ravens. 
You  will  labor  six  days  wisely  and  usefully, 
doing  all  your  work  —  it  is  the  command  of 
God.  You  will  rest  and  aspire  one  day  in 
seven  —  this,  too,  is  the  command  of  God.  And 
when  men  and  women  thus  live  out  their  man- 
hood and  their  womanhood,  intelligently  and 
conscientiously  bringing  their  lives  personally 
and  socially  into  harmony  with  the  purpose  of 
God  for  them,  they  may  live  without  fret  or 
worry.  They  may  live  in  the  sweet  assurance 
that  in  the  great  abiding  order  which  enfolds 
them  they,  too,  will  be  fed  and  clothed.  They 
will  indeed  be  fed  with  that  bread  which  comes 
down  from  above  and  be  clothed  with  that 
righteousness  which  is  the  fine  linen  of  the 
saints.  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  all 
things  will  be  added. 

The  final  ground  of  our  assurance  in  this 
[16] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

quest  of  life  is  the  good  will  of  the  Eternal. 
"  Fear  not,  it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure 
to  give  you  the  kingdom."  He  finds  his  su- 
preme joy  in  aiding  you  in  the  attainment  of 
your  highest  and  holiest  desires.  When  any 
man  is  faced  wrong  he  has  the  moral  universe 
against  him.  When  he  is  faced  right  he  has 
the  moral  universe  to  back  him  in  his  venture. 

You  are  eager  to  see  life  and  know  life  and 
possess  life.  If  you  will  enter  upon  that  high 
quest  striving  for  the  rule  of  the  divine  spirit 
in  all  the  round  of  daily  experience,  striving 
to  live  out  the  law  of  your  being,  you  may  share 
in  the  untroubled  serenity  of  the  birds  and  the 
flowers.  Seek  first  the  kingdom  and  you  will 
enter  into  life,  free  and  joyous,  abundant  and 
eternal. 


[17] 


II 

WHERE   DO   YOU   LIVE? 


" Eabli,  where  dwellest  Thou? 
He  saith  unto   them,  Come  and  see" 
—  JOHN  i,  38,  39. 


II 

WHERE   DO   YOU  LIVE  I 

YOU  are  frequently  asked,  especially  if  you 
happen  to  be  away  from  home,  "  Where 
do  you  live?  "  Some  one  is  trying  to  locate 
you.  He  feels  that  he  might  understand  your 
life  better  if  he  had  you  related  to  some  set 
of  facts  with  which  he  is  already  familiar. 

You  name  some  city,  New  York,  Chicago, 
San  Francisco,  as  the  case  may  be.  You  have 
not  answered  the  man's  question.  It  may  be 
that  was  all  he  wanted  to  know,  but  his  question 
suggests  a  great  deal  more  than  that.  Now  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  where  do  you  really  live? 
Two  men  may  reside  in  the  same  city  and  yet 
live  as  far  apart  as  the  North  Pole  and  the 
South  Pole.  Two  men  may  reside  on  the  same 
street  or  in  the  same  house  and  yet  have  a 
whole  continent  between.  It  is  not  a  question 
of  geography.  You  cannot  tell  where  any  man 
lives  by  looking  at  the  map  or  in  the  city 
directory.  You  must  examine  the  contents  of 
the  man.  It  is  a  question  of  his  own  dominant 
interest.  In  that  deeper  sense,  where  do  you 
really  live?  Where  are  you  at  home?  Where 
may  I  address  you  and  be  sure  of  reaching 
[21] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

you?  It  is  a  vital  question.  If  every  one  would 
stand  up  and  tell  us  exactly  where  he  lives  it 
would  be  more  interesting  and  more  profitable 
tlian  any  sermon  ever  preached. 

You  said  a  moment  ago  that  you  lived  in 
Chicago.  What  is  Chicago?  A  place  on  the 
map?  A  collection  of  buildings  there  on  the 
west  shore  of  Lake  Michigan?  That  is  not 
Chicago  —  that  is  where  you  will  find  Chicago. 
But  Chicago  itself  is  a  vast  array  of  human 
interests,  a  bewildering  complexity  of  hopes 
and  fears,  longings  and  yearnings,  aspirations 
and  resolves.  There  are  ten  thousand  differ- 
ent Chicagos,  some  of  them  high  and  fine,  some 
of  them  low  and  mean.  In  what  particular 
Chicago  are  you  at  home?  Where  in  all  that 
mass  of  interest  and  activity  are  you  rooted, 
grounded,  naturalized,  domiciled?  You  see 
how  this  question  ' '  Where  do  you  live  ?  ' '  goes 
down  to  the  root  of  the  matter.  It  finds  every 
man,  as  we  say  in  the  common  phrase,  "  right 
where  he  lives." 

It  was  so  when  the  question  was  first  asked 
there  in  my  text.  John  the  Baptist  saw  a 
majestic  figure  coming  down  from  the  north. 
He  saw  Jesus  of  Nazareth  taking  his  first  steps 
in  that  service  which  has  changed  the  moral 
history  of  the  world.  And  when  he  saw  him 
approach  he  said  in  reverent  tones,  "  Behold, 
the  Lamb  of  God!  He  is  taking  away  the  sin 
of  the  world!  " 

Two  of  John's  disciples  heard  him  speak  and 
they  followed  Jesus.  And  as  they  saw  in  his 
[22] 


Where  Do   You  Live? 

face  the  glory  of  the  Eternal,  as  they  heard 
the  accents  of  power  fall  from  his  lips,  as  they 
felt  a  strange,  mysterious  influence  stealing  in 
upon  their  hearts  while  they  companied  with 
him,  they  began  to  wonder  where  he  lived. 
They  wanted  to  locate  him  in  this  whirling  com- 
plexity of  interest.  They  wanted  to  relate  him 
in  definite  fashion  to  that  world  of  experience 
which  they  knew.  And  they  said,  "  Eabbi, 
where  dwellest  thou?  "  It  was  the  same 
familiar  question  — ' '  Where  do  you  live  f  ' ' 

Where  did  the  Son  of  man  live?  In  what 
part  of  the  world;  in  how  much  of  the  world? 
In  what  part  of  the  world  and  in  how  much  of 
the  world  does  any  man  live?  The  philoso- 
phers tell  us  that  each  man's  impression  or 
perception  of  the  world  is  the  only  reality  there 
is  in  the  case  for  him.  The  only  world  that 
exists  for  me  is  the  world  that  I  personally 
can  see  and  hear  and  feel,  the  system  of  reality 
with  which  I  stand  related,  to  which  I  make 
response.  There  may  be  ten  thousand  other 
worlds,  but  if  they  do  not  enter  into  my  per- 
sonal consciousness  they  do  not  exist  for  me. 
Things  only  become  real  to  me  as  they  enter 
into  my  own  immediate  experience. 

When  we  view  it  in  this  light  what  an  end- 
less variety  of  worlds  there  are!  What  dif- 
ferent impressions  are  made  upon  individuals 
by  this  system  of  reality  around  us  and  above 
us  and  beneath  us!  The  beauty  of  form  and 
color  is  not  in  the  blind  man's  world  —  rain- 
bows and  sunsets  do  not  exist  for  him.  It  is 
[23] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

all  as  though  they  were  not.  Melody  and  har- 
mony are  not  in  the  deaf  man's  world.  He 
lives  in  a  world  of  unbroken  silence.  The 
overture  to  Tannhauser  or  the  fifth  symphony 
of  Beethoven,  the  songs  of  the  birds  and  the 
laughter  of  little  children  have  no  meaning  and 
no  existence  for  him.  They  are  not  in  his 
world.  The  spiritual  values,  forces  and  activi- 
ties do  not  exist  for  the  man  who  is  dead  or 
indifferent  to  them  all.  They  are  not  in  his 
world.  In  every  case  the  presence  or  the  ab- 
sence of  a  certain  faculty  determines  the  range 
of  reality  for  that  particular  man  —  it  deter- 
mines whether  his  world  shall  be  large  or  small, 
rich  in  content  or  meager. 

What  sort  of  a  world  do  you  live  in?  How 
much  of  the  world  do  you  live  in?  It  depends 
not  so  much  upon  what  is  outside  of  you  as 
upon  what  is  inside  of  you.  What  are  your 
powers  of  perception  and  appreciation!  What 
is  the  range  of  reality  to  which  you  stand  re- 
lated? To  how  manjr  different  forms  of 
stimulus  do  you  make  response  ?  At  how  many 
points,  on  how  many  levels  do  you  react  ?  This 
is  what  determines  the  real  content  of  each 
man's  world.  Some  man  may  reside,  so  far 
as  his  postoffice  address  is  concerned,  in  the 
most  favored  spot  on  earth  and  yet  live  all 
his  days  in  a  place  as  uninteresting  as  Jersey 
City. 

Let  me  illustrate  in  homely  fashion:  I  take 
my  dog  with  me  into  the  Dresden  gallery.  He 
sees  all  that  I  see,  physically  speaking.  He 
[24] 


Where   Do    You   Live  ? 

probably  sees  a  great  deal  more,  for  his  eye- 
sight is  better  than  mine:  he  has  never  had 
to  succumb  to  the  indignity  of  glasses.  But 
when  we  come  out,  after  visiting  every  room, 
the  Sistine  Madonna  is  not  in  the  dog's  world. 
It  is  in  my  world.  It  has  been  in  my  world  ever 
since  I  saw  it  for  the  first  time  twenty  years 
ago.  I  see  it,  I  feel  it,  I  rejoice  in  the  inspira- 
tion of  it  even  as  I  stand  here.  But  the  dog 
might  live  out  all  his  days  in  the  Dresden 
gallery  and  never  see  it.  The  Sistine  Madonna 
would  not  enter  his  world.  It  is  not  a  question 
of  eyesight  but  of  insight.  It  is  the  mind  that 
sees  more  than  the  eyes. 

It  is  only  six  feet,  more  or  less,  for  any  of 
us  from  one  world  to  the  other.  Here  we  are 
with  our  feet  on  the  ground,  of  the  earth,  earthy. 
Here  we  are  dust  of  its  dust  and  destined  to 
make  return.  Here  we  are  with  our  heads 
among  the  stars,  in  a  world  of  vision,  aspiration 
and  high  resolve.  And  this  world  where  our 
minds  go  is  as  real  as  the  streets  and  the  lanes 
where  our  feet  go.  In  which  world  are  you 
most  at  home?  Where  does  your  mind  go  when 
it  is  free  to  do  not  what  it  must  but  what  it 
likes?  Where  does  your  heart  go  in  its  pre- 
vailing moods  and  desires? 

You  have  cellars  in  your  homes,  stored  with 
coal  and  provisions,  but  you  do  not  live  down 
there.  You  have  kitchens  where  food  is  pre- 
pared, and  dining-rooms  where  it  is  tastefully 
served,  but  you  do  not  live  there,  I  trust.  You 
have  living-rooms,  as  we  say,  and  libraries, 
[25] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

with  opportunities  innumerable  for  intellectual 
and  social  enjoyment,  but  you  cannot  live  by 
these  alone.  Unless  you  have  in  your  home 
and  in  your  life  an  upper  room  facing  squarely 
upon  the  sky,  looking  out  upon  a  horizon 
bounded  by  nothing  nearer  than  the  stars  and 
the  being  of  God,  you  are  not  living  in  the  world 
for  which  you  were  intended.  Give  me  then 
your  full  address  —  and  by  your  definition  of 
the  world  you  live  in,  I  shall  know  the  quality  of 
your  life. 

How  many  different  worlds  there  are  for 
the  men  we  meet  in  daily  life!  Here  are  four 
men!  The  first  man  lives  in  a  stream  of  com- 
modities. His  world  is  a  river  of  things  to 
be  bought  and  sold.  Now  it  flows  this  way  and 
now  it  flows  that  way,  but  always  in  such  a 
way  as  to  turn  the  wheels  of  his  mill  and  grind 
him  out  a  grist  of  profits.  He  lives  in  that 
stream  of  commodities  as  a  trout  lives  in  the 
brook.  He  eats  in  it,  sleeps  in  it,  dreams  in 
it,  works  in  it,  seven  days  in  the  week.  He 
is  never  out  of  it  for  an  hour,  from  Monday 
morning  to  Sunday  night.  Talk  to  him  on  any 
other  topic  than  that  of  trade  and  you  find  him 
as  dull  as  a  pine  stump.  He  feels  sure  that  a 
man's  life  does  consist  in  the  abundance  of  the 
things  he  can  buy,  a  certain  eminent  authority 
to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  And  this  is 
the  world  he  lives  in:  it  is  the  only  world  he 
knows. 

Here  is  another  man  who  lives  in  a  world  of 
books,  ideas,  judgments.  He  is  interested  in 
[26] 


Where   Do    You   Live? 

outlooks,  insights  and  discriminations.  He 
knows  ten  times  as  much  about  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, who  have  been  dead  two  thousand  years, 
as  he  does  about  Mr.  John  D.  Rockefeller,  who 
is  very  much  alive.  In  his  world  the  quota- 
tions and  transactions  have  to  do  with  the 
truth,  and  particularly  with  that  form  of  truth 
which  sets  men  free  from  blindness  and  evil. 
He  strives  to  keep  his  credit  good  by  keeping 
his  eye  single,  that  his  whole  moral  nature  may 
be  full  of  light.  He  feels  that  wisdom  is  the 
principal  thing,  that  its  value  is  above  rubies; 
and  he  strives  with  all  his  getting  to  get  under- 
standing. And  that  is  the  sort  of  world  he 
lives  in. 

Here  is  a  third  man  who  lives  in  a  world  of 
distrust,  suspicion  and  insinuation.  He  re- 
joices in  iniquity  more  than  in  the  truth.  He 
smacks  his  lips  over  any  fresh  bit  of  it  which 
comes  his  way.  He  prides  himself  on  his  free- 
dom from  all  illusions  and  enthusiasms.  ' '  They 
are  all  devils, ' '  he  says ;  * '  they  all  have  horns 
and  hoofs  hidden  away  under  their  clothes  and 
conventionalities."  He  feels  that  he  is  simply 
a  smarter  devil  than  the  rest.  He  says  with 
a  sneer,  "  Every  man  has  his  price,"  knowing 
that  he  has  his  price.  He  is  cold,  cynical,  dis- 
agreeable, untouched  by  those  generous  enthu- 
siasms which  fire  the  hearts  of  his  fellows.  He 
lives  in  that  world  which  Dante  saw  when  he 
wrote  the  "  Inferno."  This  man  could  write  a 
description  of  the  Inferno  himself  as  accu- 
rate as  a  Baedeker.  And  this  world  of  cynical 
[27] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

distrust  is  the  only  world  where  he  feels  at 
home. 

Here  is  another  man  whose  head  is  full  of 
visions  and  dreams  of  better  things.  He  lives 
in  a  world  where  everybody  is  kind  and  good, 
hopeful  and  helpful.  He  is  all  that:  he  thinks 
people  generally  are,  as  indeed  many  of  them 
are  when  he  is  present.  He  carries  with  him 
an  atmosphere  which  stimulates  the  best  in 
every  life.  He  carries  the  atmosphere  which 
Forbes  Robertson  carried  into  the  boarding 
house  in  Bloomsbury  in  "  The  Passing  of  the 
Third  Floor  Back."  It  is  an  atmosphere  which 
has  a  wholesome  effect  upon  the  selfish  and  the 
sluggish,  encouraging  them  to  be  kind  and  good, 
hopeful  and  helpful.  This  man  appraises 
everything  in  terms  of  spiritual  value.  To  him 
it  is  all  property,  real  and  personal,  possessed 
of  worth  unspeakable.  He  has  religion,  not  as 
a  history  of  something  that  happened  a  long 
time  ago,  not  as  a  remote  theory  about  things, 
not  as  a  piece  of  stately  ritual.  He  has  reli- 
gion as  an  experience,  as  a  life.  He  lives  in  a 
world  where  God  the  Father  is  above  all  and  in 
all  and  through  all  things.  And  this  is  his 
world. 

How  far  apart  these  four  men  seem  when 
we  look  at  them!  Yet  they  may  all  reside  in 
the  same  town  and  on  the  same  street.  Now 
and  then  they  may  meet  for  an  hour  at  the 
baseball  game  or  in  the  theater  or  at  church. 
They  seem  for  the  moment  to  have  a  common 
interest.  But  the  meeting  breaks  up  and  each 

[28] 


Where   Do    You   Live? 

man  goes  his  way.  Each  one  returns  to  his 
own  particular  world  and  goes  sailing  along 
through  space  like  the  earth  on  its  orbit. 

The  sky  is  a  roomy  place ;  the  sun,  the  moon 
and  all  the  stars  are  there,  each  one  moving 
on  its  appointed  way  without  touching  any  of 
the  rest.  The  world  of  human  life  is  a  great, 
wide,  roomy  place;  there  is  a  chance  for  every 
conceivable  type.  And  each  man  builds  up  his 
own  particular  planet  of  being,  his  own  sphere 
of  action,  by  the  relations  he  sustains,  by  the 
values  on  which  he  sets  his  heart,  by  the  forms 
of  action  into  which  he  enters.  He  builds  his 
own  planet  of  life  and  then  moves  with  it  on 
his  own  selected  orbit  through  this  universe 
of  interest.  Where  in  all  that  world  of  infinite 
variety  do  you  dwell?  How  much  of  that  world 
of  reality,  seen  and  unseen,  has  become  real  to 
you? 

But  let  me  return  again  to  the  original  set- 
ting of  the  text.  The  two  men  asked  Christ 
where  he  lived.  "  Eabbi,  where  dwellest 
thou?  "  Speaking  after  the  manner  of  men, 
he  did  not  live  in  much  of  a  world.  He  was 
born  in  the  manger  of  a  stable.  He  was  brought 
up  in  the  home  of  a  carpenter  at  Nazareth. 
When  I  was  in  Nazareth  a  few  years  ago  they 
showed  me  the  house.  It  may  not  have  been 
the  identical  house  —  I  have  no  idea  that  it 
was  —  but  it  was  some  such  humble  affair,  for 
his  people  were  poor.  When  he  grew  up  and 
entered  upon  his  active  service  going  about 
doing  good,  there  were  times  when  he  had 
[29] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

nowhere  to  lay  his  head.  He  accepted  hospi- 
tality when  it  was  offered,  sometimes  by  rich 
men  like  Zacchaeus,  sometimes  by  the  fairly 
well-to-do,  like  Mary  and  Martha,  and  some- 
times by  those  who  were  as  poor  as  himself. 
When  nothing  offered,  he  slept  out  and  ate  the 
raw  wheat  which  his  disciples  plucked  in  the 
fields.  When  he  came  to  die  he  did  not  die  in 
a  bed  —  he  died  on  a  cross  and  his  body  was 
laid  in  a  borrowed  tomb.  When  you  study  the 
record  of  his  life  it  seems  to  lack  any  worthy 
setting.  It  was  a  rough  world  for  him  to  live 
in.  The  foxes  had  holes  and  the  birds  of  the 
air  had  nests,  but  the  Son  of  man  was  without 
worthy  residence. 

But  where  did  he  actually  live  during  all 
that  time?  I  wish  I  could  tell  you.  It  would 
make  this  sermon  forever  memorable.  I  could 
not  possibly  put  it  in  words.  No  man  could. 
He  who  spoke  as  never  man  spake  could  not 
put  it  in  words.  He  would  not  even  try.  When 
men  undertook  to  locate  him  in  this  complexity 
of  interest  and  activity,  you  remember  his  reply. 
He  did  not  name  a  certain  city  or  town. 
"  Rabbi,  where  dwellest  thou?  "  Jesus  an- 
swered, "  Come  and  see."  Come  and  live  in  my 
world!  Come  and  live  in  it  for  a  day,  for  an 
hour,  and  then  you  will  know!  It  was  the 
only  way  they  could  know.  The  greatest  things 
in  life  cannot  be  described  —  they  must  be  seen 
and  felt  and  experienced  at  first  hand. 

He  did  not  undertake  to  describe  the  world 
he  lived  in  but  he  gave  us  several  significant 
[30] 


Where   Do    You   Live? 

hints.  He  lived  in  a  world  where  he  could  say 
at  any  moment,  "  I  am  not  alone,  the  Father 
is  with  me."  He  had  unbrokenly  the  sense  of 
divine  companionship.  He  felt  that  he  was 
allied  with  the  Infinite.  He  claimed  kinship 
with  the  Eternal.  He  might  be  walking  through 
a  crowded  street,  the  people  thronging  him; 
he  might  be  asleep  in  the  hinder  part  of  a  boat ; 
he  might  be  addressing  a  multitude  from  the 
hillside;  he  might  be  alone  at  prayer  on  the 
mountain  top.  It  mattered  not  —  he  was  not 
alone;  the  Father  was  with  him.  He  had  un- 
brokenly that  sense  of  an  exalted  fellowship. 

He  lived  in  a  world  where  he  could  say,  "  I 
come  not  to  do  mine  own  will  but  the  will  of 
him  that  sent  me."  He  had  the  sense  of  mis- 
sion. He  did  not  live  by  mood  or  whim.  He 
did  not  dash  aimlessly  here  or  there  on  any 
passing  impulse.  He  was  building  his  life  finely 
and  steadily  into  a  far-reaching,  divine  plan. 
He  was  shaping  his  course  with  reference  to  a 
purpose  which  reached  from  the  hour  when  the 
morning  stars  sang  together  on  to  the  day  when 
a  victorious  host  shall  stand  before  the  throne 
singing  the  song  of  moral  achievement.  He 
was  making  himself  at  home  in  those  great 
moral  processes  which  are  to  bring  the  city  of 
God,  the  ideal  social  order,  down  out  of  heaven 
and  set  it  up  in  active  operation  on  this 
common  earth.  He  had  a  plan,  a  purpose, 
a  goal,  and  he  steadfastly  set  his  face  toward 
the  great  fulfillment.  "  I  come  not  to  do  mine 
own  will  but  the  will  of  him  who  sent  me. ' '  He 
[31] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

lived  in  a  world  where  he  had  the  sense  of 
mission. 

He  lived  in  a  world  where  he  could  say  to  all 
the  lives  he  met,  * '  I  am  among  you  as  one  who 
serves. "  He  was  ready  and  able  to  do  good 
to  every  life  that  came  within  the  length  of 
his  cable  tow.  It  mattered  not  whether  the 
life  was  rich  or  poor,  cultured  or  simple,  sin- 
ful or  saintly,  he  was  there  as  one  who  served. 
Out  among  the  Gentiles  it  was  not  so.  There 
the  great  ones  exercised  lordship  and  dominion. 
But  in  Christ's  world,  if  any  man  would  be 
great  he  must  serve;  and  the  greatest  of  all 
must  be  the  servant  of  all.  He  once  took  a 
towel  and  girded  himself  that  v  he  might  wash 
the  disciples'  feet.  He  prepared  himself  for 
that  particular  act  of  service.  But  the  spirit  of 
service  he  never  put  on  because  he  never  took 
it  off  —  it  was  always  there,  as  much  a  part 
of  him  as  his  own  right  hand.  It  was  as  much 
a  part  of  his  world  as  the  power  of  gravitation. 
He  took  upon  himself  the  form  and  the  spirit 
of  a  servant  becoming  obedient  to  the  exacting 
demands  of  an  exalted  usefulness. 

What  a  world  for  the  Son  of  man  to  live  in ! 
What  a  world  for  all  the  sons  of  men  to  live  in ! 
Take  those  three  sides  of  the  triangle  and  think 
of  what  they  enclose!  The  sense  of  divine 
companionship,  the  sense  of  mission,  and  the 
spirit  of  service!  And  this  does  not  exhaust 
the  content  of  the  world  where  he  dwelt.  I 
have  only  pointed  to  the  sun,  the  moon  and  one 
of  the  principal  stars.  If  we  should  undertake 
[32] 


Where   Do    You   Live? 

to  indicate  the  entire  glory  of  that  world  which 
he  saw  around  him  in  the  unrealized  capacity 
of  this  human  nature  for  spiritual  advance  and 
in  the  fullness  of  that  divine  help  upon  which 
he  relied,  we  should  need  all  the  angels  in 
heaven  singing  at  once  and  all  the  wise  men 
on  earth  speaking  at  once  and  every  created 
thing  become  vocal  to  bring  out  the  full  content 
of  that  world  which  Jesus  saw.  He  had  no- 
where to  lay  his  head,  but  he  lived  in  a  world 
of  surpassing  beauty  and  of  glory  unspeakable. 

Words  fail  us  in  the  face  of  that  prospect! 
It  was  because  he  felt  himself  unable  to  de- 
scribe what  he  saw  and  felt  and  enjoyed  that 
Jesus  said  to  his  questioners,  "  Come  and  see." 
We  can  easily  repeat  those  three  sentences  — 
"  The  Father  is  with  me;  I  come  to  do  the 
will  of  him  who  sent  me;  I  am  among  you  as 
one  who  serves  ' '  —  but  if  we  would  know  the 
world  to  which  they  point  we  must  live  in  it. 
We  must  climb  its  mountains  of  spiritual  aspi- 
ration. We  must  traverse  its  valleys  of  spirit- 
ual peace.  We  must  eat  the  ripe  fruit  which 
grows  on  the  tree  of  life  and  drink  the  water 
which  flows  clear  as  crystal  from  the  throne  of 
God.  Come  and  see!  Then  you  will  know! 
Live  in  the  mood  and  after  the  method  of 
Christ  and  you  will  know  where  he  lived. 

How  much  of  a  world  did  his  most  illustrious 
disciple  inhabit?  "  I  am  a  citizen  of  no  mean 
city,"  Paul  said.  Did  he  mean  Tarsus?  That 
was  where  he  came  from  — '  *  Saul  of  Tarsus. ' ' 
Yes,  he  meant  Tarsus  —  his  own  Tarsus.  There 
[33] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

were  as  many  different  cities  of  Tarsus  as  there 
are  cities  of  Chicago.  There  were  thieves  and 
harlots  in  Tarsus  —  Paul  was  not  a  citizen  of 
their  city.  There  were  mean  men  in  Tarsus, 
men  who  were  unkindly  and  ungodly  —  Paul 
was  not  a  citizen  of  their  city.  He  was  a  citi- 
zen of  his  own  Tarsus,  and  that  city  was  not 
mean. 

His  ultimate  citizenship,  however,  was  not 
in  Tarsus  but  in  a  realm  of  moral  purpose 
and  spiritual  ideals.  "  Our  citizenship  is  in 
heaven."  And  that  city  of  moral  purpose  and 
spiritual  ideals  to  which  he  owed  his  final  alle- 
giance is  a  city  which  can  be  set  up  anywhere, 
at  Tarsus  or  Ephesus,  in  Corinth  or  in  Eome, 
in  New  York  or  in  Shanghai.  And  it  is  for 
every  man  to  build  for  himself  that  city  to 
which  he  gives  his  final  allegiance.  He  frames 
it  up  out  of  the  principles  by  which  he  lives, 
from  the  values  upon  which  he  sets  his  heart, 
from  the  realities  to  which  he  stands  intimately 
related.  And  when  that  city  is  well  built  it  is 
"  no  mean  city,"  it  matters  not  on  what  spot 
of  earth  it  may  happen  to  stand. 

The  outward  setting  of  any  man's  life  is  of 
small  moment.  When  Oliver  Goldsmith  was 
so  poor  that  he  could  scarcely  get  bread  to  put 
in  his  mouth  he  had  a  room  below  the  level  of 
the  street.  He  was  taunted  with  it  on  one  occa- 
sion. Some  brute  said  to  him,  "  You  lodge  in 
a  basement."  Instantly  came  the  stinging  re- 
tort, * '  Your  soul  must  lodge  in  a  basement. ' ' 

You  cannot  tell  where  a  man  lodges  by  watch- 
[34] 


Where   Do   You  Live  ? 

ing  the  outside  of  him.  The  body  may  be  born 
in  the  manger  of  a  stable.  It  may  issue  forth 
from  some  provincial  town  like  Tarsus.  It 
may  see  the  day  when  it  can  afford  no  better 
place  of  residence  than  a  basement.  What  of 
it?  The  inner  life  may,  in  the  hour  of  its 
strength,  stand  forth  like  a  king  in  his  king- 
dom. The  inner  life  may  claim  and  hold  its 
citizenship  in  heaven.  The  inner  life  may  open 
its  lips  and  make  the  world  its  debtor  by  the 
sweetness  of  its  song.  The  question  as  to  what 
place  on  the  map  you  hail  from  does  not  in- 
terest me.  I  do  not  care  whether  you  have  two 
rooms  in  your  house  or  twenty,  or  twice  that. 
But  where  do  you,  as  a  child  of  the  Eternal, 
find  yourself  at  hornet  That  question  is 
fundamental. 

How  splendid  it  is  that  it  is  always  possible 
for  us  to  move !  In  this  outer  world  it  may  not 
be  so.  You  may  not  like  the  city  you  live  in 
or  the  street  you  are  on  or  the  house  you  occupy, 
yet  you  may  be  powerless  to  change  it.  Your 
whole  environment  may  be  distasteful  to  you, 
but  you  are  compelled  to  settle  down  and  make 
the  best  of  it.  But  when  we  come  to  the  dwell- 
ing-place of  that  inner  life  we  are  all  pilgrims 
and  sojourners  as  our  fathers  were.  We  can 
always  move. 

It  may  be  done  right  here,  without  dust  or 
noise.  You  need  not  send  out  for  the  furniture 
van.  You  can  do  it  yourself  by  your  own  choice 
and  resolve.  If  you  have  an  uneasy  feeling 
that  the  world  you  have  been  living  in  for 
[35] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

months,  for  years  it  may  be,  has  not  the  breadth 
or  depth  or  height  suitable  for  the  residence 
and  growth  of  a  soul,  then  move.  Move  out! 
Move  up  where  you  belong !  Move  into  a  world 
where  the  best  that  is  in  you  can  stand  up 
straight  because  the  ceiling  is  high!  Move 
where  you  can  strike  out  and  not  come  at  once 
into  contact  with  some  restraining  wall !  Move 
up  where  you  can  breathe  your  native  air  as  a 
child  of  the  Eternal. 

The  world  where  the  religious  man  lives  is 
a  large  world,  but  the  religious  life  is  not  easy. 
It  is  the  most  difficult  life  there  is,  and  the 
most  rewarding.  There  is  an  upper  level  of 
spiritual  privilege  which  towers  above  the 
common  grind  as  the  Matterhorn  towers  above 
the  valley  of  the  Rhone.  But  to  reach  it  in- 
volves a  stiff  climb.  You  can  do  it  if  you  will. 
No  weight  of  years  or  bodily  infirmity  need 
detain  you  here.  No  long  remove  from  such 
vantage  grounds  as  are  found  in  the  Alps,  the 
Andes  and  the  Sierras  need  hinder  you  —  the 
path  of  spiritual  ascent  is  not  far  from  any  one 
of  us. 

But  if  you  would  go  aloft  you  must  go  in 
marching  order.  Lay  aside  every  weight.  Lay 
aside  the  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us. 
Strip  off  every  evil  purpose  and  intent,  every 
shred  of  spite  or  bitterness  or  ill  will.  Then 
by  your  own  personal  faith,  rope  yourself  in 
with  the  Guide  and  Helper  of  man's  life,  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  climb!  And  when  you  stand 
on  that  higher  level  breathing  the  air  you  were 
[36] 


Where   Do    You   Live? 

meant  to  breathe  and  lifting  your  eyes  to  the 
heights  whence  cometh  help,  you  can  say  to 
every  man  who  asks  your  residence,  "  I  live 
in  a  city  that  hath  foundations,  whose  builder 
and  maker  is  God." 


[37] 


Ill 

THE   VISION   OF   GOD 


"I  have  seen  God."  —  GENESIS  xxxn,  30. 


ra 

THE   VISION   OF   GOD 

THIS  is  a  tremendous  statement!  Who 
makes  it?  Some  ripened  saint  dwelling 
apart  from  the  world,  unstained  by  its  evil? 
Some  wise  philosopher  long  accustomed  to 
think  hard  upon  that  which  is  fundamental  and 
absolute?  Some  noble  woman,  with  her  keener 
spiritual  intuitions,  her  moral  nature  alert  and 
sensitive?  Who  is  it  that  ventures  upon  this 
bold  statement  —  "I  have  seen  God !  ' ' 

It  was  none  of  these  —  it  was  a  practical, 
hard-headed  business  man.  You  will  easily  re- 
call the  scene  described  in  that  passage  where 
the  text  stands.  A  man  named  Jacob  had  been 
wrestling  all  night  at  Jabbok  Ford  with  a  mys- 
terious antagonist.  He  was  a  man  of  affairs 
and  practical  to  the  thirty-third  and  last  de- 
gree. He  had  been  living  with  his  feet  and  his 
eyes  very  much  upon  the  ground.  He  had  be- 
gun his  career  by  trading  off  a  cheap  mess  of 
pottage  for  a  valuable  birthright.  He  played  a 
clever  trick  on  his  aged  father  to  obtain  a  bless- 
ing which  carried  with  it  the  rights  of  primo- 
geniture. He  manipulated  the  flocks  of  his  em- 
ployer Laban  so  skillfully  that  at  the  termina- 
[41] 


The  Quest  of  Life 

tion  of  their  contract  Jacob  had  the  larger  part 
of  the  flocks  and  Laban  a  period  of  very  in- 
structive experience.  Jacob  was  nothing  if  not 
practical.  And  he  had  been  so  successful  that 
now  he  was  returning  to  his  old  home  with  oxen 
and  asses,  with  flocks  and  herds,  with  manser- 
vants and  maidservants,  and  a  very  great 
household.  "  With  my  staff  I  passed  over  this 
Jordan  and  now  I  am  become  two  bands." 
And  this  practical  man  of  affairs  stood  there 
at  daybreak  saying,  "  I  have  seen  God!  " 

The  place  where  he  gained  this  vision  is  also 
suggestive.  It  was  not  in  some  noble  temple 
where  lofty  arches,  stained  glass  windows  and 
religious  music  woo  the  mind  into  an  attitude 
of  reverence.  It  was  not  at  some  point  of 
great  natural  beauty  like  Glacier  Point  in  the 
Yosemite  or  Inspiration  Point  in  the  Yellow- 
stone, like  Zermatt  looking  toward  the  Matter- 
horn,  or  Darjeeling  facing  upon  the  Himala- 
yas. In  these  situations  the  sheer  magnificence 
of  the  outlook  lifts  the  mind  toward  the  Infinite. 
Jacob  had  his  vision  on  the  banks  of  an  in- 
significant stream  at  a  lonely  spot  called  Jabbok 
Ford.  The  situation  was  entirely  common- 
place—  there  was  nothing  in  the  setting  to 
assist  religious  sentiment.  Yet  there  on  the 
dead  level,  with  his  flocks  and  his  herds  about 
him,  this  practical  man  felt  moved  to  say,  "  I 
have  seen  God." 

His  experience  will  be  instructive  to  us.  We 
live  in  an  age  intensely  practical.  We  are 
occupied  six  days  in  the  week,  not  to  say  seven, 
[42] 


The    Vision   of    God 

thinking  and  talking  about  flocks  and  herds, 
mills  and  mines,  farms  and  factories,  stores  and 
railroads.  We  are  busied  about  things  to  eat, 
things  to  wear,  and  all  the  other  things  neces- 
sary for  this  elaborate  life.  Meditation,  con- 
templation, adoration  seem  to  be  crowded  out 
of  many  a  heart.  There  is  neither  time,  nor 
room,  nor  the  mood  to  see  God.  The  language 
of  devotion  is  not  the  tongue  in  which  we  are 
born.  We  talk  glibly  about  bargains,  invest- 
ments and  gains ;  about  matter,  substance  and 
energy ;  but  in  the  language  of  spiritual  reality, 
we  are  awkward.  If  any  man  or  woman  should 
suddenly  rise  up  and  say,  "  I  have  seen  God," 
it  would  sound  queer  and  remote.  It  will  be 
worth  while  then  to  ask  how  this  man  of  affairs 
gained  his  vision  of  the  divine. 

He  saw  God  first  of  all  in  the  retribution 
which  was  about  to  overtake  his  wrongdoing. 
Twenty  odd  years  before  he  had  cheated  his 
brother.  He  had  cheated  him  out  of  his  birth- 
right and  out  of  his  blessing,  with  all  the  privi- 
leges which  went  with  them.  He  had  been  com- 
pelled to  leave  home  to  escape  the  wrath  of 
that  brother  whom  he  had  wronged.  He  had 
prospered  in  Haran,  for  he  had  the  Hebrew 
facility  for  getting  on.  He  had  made  his 
"  pile  "  and  was  now  returning  home  with  all 
his  gains  and  blushing  honors  thick  upon  him. 

But  when  he  drew  near  to  the  borders  of 
Edom,  where  Esau  lived,  he  recalled  that  old 
resentment  and  was  afraid.  He  sent  a  con- 
ciliatory message  to  Esau,  couching  it  in  orien- 
[43] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

tal  phrase,  demeaning  himself  and  exalting  the 
one  he  would  appease.  "  Thy  servant  Jacob 
has  tarried  with  Laban  until  now ;  he  has  oxen 
and  asses,  flocks  and  herds,  and  he  has  sent  to 
tell  my  lord,  Esau,  that  he  might  find  grace  in 
his  sight." 

Jacob's  messengers  came  back  with  the  re- 
port that  Esau  had  already  taken  the  field.  He 
was  marching  toward  Jacob  with  four  hundred 
armed  Bedouins.  Then  Jacob  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed. He  divided  his  flocks  and  his  herds 
into  two  bands  so  that  if  one  was  attacked  the 
other  might  escape.  He  selected  a  present  of 
camels  and  cows,  of  sheep  and  goats,  and  sent 
it  ahead  to  Esau,  hoping  to  buy  off  his  wrath. 
Then,  having  taken  every  precaution  possible 
and  feeling  how  inadequate  it  all  was,  he  fell 
down  and  prayed.  "  0  God  of  my  fathers, 
God  of  Abraham  and  God  of  Isaac,  I  am  not 
worthy  of  the  least  of  all  Thy  mercies.  With 
my  staff  I  passed  over  this  Jordan  and  now 
I  am  become  two  bands.  But  deliver  me  I 
pray  Thee  from  the  hand  of  Esau,  lest  he  smite 
me  and  the  mother  with  the  children. ' '  In  that 
approaching  retribution,  which  he  knew  he 
richly  deserved,  he  saw  the  hand  of  God. 

When  you  suffer  because  you  have  done 
wrong,  rejoice  in  that  fact.  It  shows  that  you 
are  still  alive;  you  can  suffer  as  you  would 
not  if  you  were  morally  dead.  When  retri- 
bution overtakes  you  because  of  some  wrong- 
doing, give  thanks.  It  shows  that  there  is 
a  God  in  Israel  who  regards  you  as  worth 
[44] 


The   Vision   of   God 

saving.  He  is  rebuking  and  correcting  you 
that  he  may  bring  you  into  right  relations  with 
himself. 

The  great  moral  order  is  not  far  from  any 
one  of  us.  It  is  not  indifferent  to  any  one  of 
us  for  an  hour.  The  dark  cloud  of  retribution 
approaching  because  of  some  sin  is  an  indica- 
tion that  the  God  of  righteousness  takes 
thought  for  the  deeper  interests  of  every  life. 
The  solemn  fact,  that  "  the  way  of  the  trans- 
gressor is  hard,"  standing  unaltered  either  by 
the  Revised  Version  or  the  Higher  Criticism, 
is  a  steady  testimony  to  the  truth  that  God  is 
with  us  and  for  us,  arraying  himself  against 
the  evil  which  would  harm  our  lives.  When  he 
smites  you  because  you  have  done  wrong,  look 
up  as  Jacob  did  and  say,  "  I  have  seen  God.'* 
You  will  see  him  in  that  very  opposition  which 
evildoing  encounters. 

If  any  man  could  succeed  permanently  in 
escaping  the  consequences  of  his  own  wrong- 
doing, it  might  go  far  toward  making  him  an 
atheist.  He  might  say,  as  the  wicked  man  said 
in  the  Psalm,  "  Does  God  know1?  Is  there 
knowledge  with  the  Most  High?  Where  now 
is  thy  God?  '  If  in  any  quarter  wickedness 
should  succeed  in  permanently  defying  the 
moral  order,  then  God  would  cease  to  be  God 
in  that  realm.  * '  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you 
out,"  in  some  form  of  penalty.  What  a  man 
sows,  he  reaps.  Sometimes  the  harvest  comes 
in  four  months,  sometimes  in  four  years,  some- 
times in  forty  years.  It  always  comes.  Know 
[45] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

that  God  will  bring  into  judgment  all  these 
things,  whether  they  be  good  or  bad.  If  human 
experience,  taking  it  by  and  large,  has  taught 
us  anything,  it  has  taught  us  that.  And  in  the 
very  opposition  which  evil  encounters,  sooner 
or  later,  clear-eyed  men  see  the  hand  and  the 
love  of  God. 

It  was  his  profound  faith  in  an  abiding  moral 
order  where  God  lives  and  reigns,  which  caused 
Abraham  Lincoln  to  say  in  one  of  the  dark 
hours  of  the  Civil  War,  "  Fondly  do  we  trust 
and  fervently  do  we  pray  that  this  war  may 
cease.  But  if  it  should  be  decreed  that  all  the 
treasure  accumulated  by  the  unrequited  toil  of 
the  bondman  should  be  sunk  and  that  every 
drop  of  blood  drawn  by  the  lash  should  be  paid 
by  another  drop  of  blood  drawn  by  the  sword, 
even  then  we  would  still  be  moved  to  say,  as  it 
was  said  three  thousand  years  ago,  *  Thy 
judgments,  0  God,  are  true  and  righteous  alto- 
gether.' "  We  incurred  that  fearful  loss  of 
treasure,  of  blood  and  of  national  prestige, 
because  we  had  done  wrong.  And  in  all  that 
fiery  penalty  and  discipline  through  which  this 
nation  passed  in  wiping  out  the  sin  of  slavery, 
men  of  insight  saw  the  hand  of  the  Almighty. 

Take  it  in  an  individual  case:  Here  is  a 
man  entirely  absorbed  in  making  money!  He 
has  allowed  money  to  become,  not  a  useful  and 
obedient  servant,  but  an  imperious  master.  He 
has  reached  the  point  where  he  eats  and  drinks, 
thinks  and  plans,  dreams  and  lives  in  terms  of 
material  gain.  He  need  not  be  surprised  if 
[46] 


The    Vision   of   God 

certain  hard  lines  appear  in  his  face,  marring 
the  gentler  look  of  sympathy  and  kindliness 
once  there.  He  may  find  himself  becoming  in- 
different to  the  interests  of  weaker  men  whose 
hopes  are  crushed  by  those  commercial  ener- 
gies which  he  has  helped  to  create.  The  human 
values  at  stake  in  this  huge  business  of  pro- 
duction, transportation  and  exchange  may  be 
utterly  obscured  by  the  financial  values  which 
to  him  seem  all-important. 

He  need  not  be  surprised  if  the  standards  of 
his  home  are  materialized  until  the  old  inter- 
ests of  worship,  aspiration  and  Christian  ser- 
vice fade  out.  His  own  sons  may  shame  him 
and  wring  his  heart  by  their  utter  lack  of  those 
finer  qualities  which  he  manifested  at  their  age. 
When  he  sees  this  process  of  judgment  in 
operation,  let  him  know  that  God  does  not  leave 
himself  without  witness  anywhere.  There  is 
a  God  in  Israel  and  in  New  York,  who  does 
not  allow  a  soul  to  go  down  in  ultimate  spirit- 
ual defeat  without  repeated  warnings.  Watch 
for  them,  as  Jacob  watched  that  night  for  the 
approaching  Bedouins !  And  when  you  see  that 
inevitable  opposition  to  your  own  mistaken 
course  of  action  say,  as  Jacob  did,  "  I  have 
seen  God." 

In  the  second  place,  Jacob  looked  into  the 
depths  of  his  own  soul  and  saw  there  the  spirit 
of  God  prompting  him  to  seek  moral  renewal. 
He  felt  that  night  that  his  name  was  wrong  — 
it  meant  "  Supplanter  ";  it  told  the  ugly  story 
of  his  life.  He  felt  that  his  nature  was  wrong 
[47] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

—  it  was  mean,  tricky  and  selfish.  He  had  been 
ready  to  purchase  material  prosperity  at  the 
cost  of  any  moral  scruple  which  might  stand 
in  the  way.  He  had  been  ignoring  the  interests 
of  those  other  lives  which  were  sacrificed  to  his 
advantage.  He  felt  that  his  purposes  were 
wrong  —  he  was  trying  to  buy  off  his  brother 's 
anger  with  a  present  of  camels  and  cows,  when 
he  should  have  been  on  his  knees  before  God 
confessing  his  sins  and  on  his  knees  before  his 
brother  imploring  forgiveness.  He  was  wrong 
all  the  way  up,  all  the  way  down,  all  the  way 
in.  And  there  in  the  darkness  of  that  night,  as 
he  struggled  with  his  mysterious  antagonist, 
we  hear  him  say,  "  I  will  not  let  Thee  go 
except  Thou  bless  me."  In  his  own  sense  of 
the  need  of  moral  renewal,  he  felt  the  disturb- 
ing presence  of  God. 

"  Blessed  are  they  that  hunger  and  thirst 
after  righteousness  "  —  happy  is  their  condi- 
tion! God  is  working  in  them  to  will  and  to 
accomplish  his  good  pleasure.  Blessed  is  the 
man  whose  soul  is  athirst  for  God,  for  the 
living  God,  yearning  after  a  satisfying  sense 
of  fellowship  with  the  Unseen!  Happy  is  his 
lot,  for  God  is  manifesting  himself  to  that  man. 
The  Lord  has  made  us  for  himself  and  our 
hearts  are  restless  till  they  rest  in  him.  The 
divine  spirit  goeth  where  he  listeth,  awakening 
appetite  for  the  bread  of  life  as  well  as  supply- 
ing it  to  need  already  conscious.  When  any 
man  feels  a  profound  discontent  with  his  own 
inmost  life,  let  him  rejoice.  If  he  will  look 

[48] 


The    Vision   of   God 

deeply  into  that  yearning  which  will  not  down, 
he  will  be  moved  to  say,  "  I  see  God  face  to 
face." 

When  the  missionary  goes  to  the  darkest 
section  of  Africa,  he  finds  the  black  people 
happy  and  contented.  They  show  a  larger 
measure  of  content  than  the  people  he  left  be- 
hind him  in  America.  They  are  naked,  they 
are  ignorant,  they  are  superstitious,  they  are 
immoral,  but  they  are  as  contented  as  trees. 

He  begins  to  teach  them  and  to  preach  to 
them.  Then  they  begin  to  develop  discontent. 
The  black  man,  like  the  Prodigal  Son  in  the 
far  country,  begins  to  be  in  want.  He  wants 
a  shirt,  for  he  feels  an  awakening  sense  of 
modesty  in  the  presence  of  these  white  people. 
He  wants  a  book,  for  his  mind  has  been  aroused 
and  he  desires  to  learn.  His  heart  is  possessed 
by  finer  affections  and  he  wants  a  home  —  he  is 
not  content  to  live  in  the  open,  or  in  some  rude 
corral;  he  wants  decent  appointments  for  his 
family  life.  Then  his  awakened  soul  turns  from 
the  ugly  fetich  he  has  been  worshiping  and  he 
wants  God.  The  whole  story  of  his  advance  is 
a  story  of  unfolding  need.  When  he  looks  back 
over  that  period  when  he  began  to  be  in  want, 
he  interprets  it  as  Jacob  did.  He  attributes  his 
own  awakened  aspiration  to  the  presence  of  the 
divine  spirit  in  his  life. 

May  we  not  interpret  the  moods  of  our  own 

day  in  this  same  manner  ?    Has  there  ever  been 

a  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  when  there 

was  so  much  wealth  and  so  much  pessimism 

[49] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

in  the  very  nations  which  possess  the  largest 
portion  of  the  wealth?  Has  there  ever  been  a 
time  when  there  were  so  many  opportunities 
for  pleasure  and  so  many  sad-eyed,  heavy- 
hearted  people?  And  the  source  of  this  pessi- 
mism and  discontent  is  not  in  the  surround- 
ings, nor  in  the  possessions  of  these  people  — 
it  is  in  themselves.  They  need  to  be  changed. 
They  need  to  learn  that  a  man's  life  does  not 
consist  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  that  he 
can  buy. 

The  Lord  of  life  enters  these  troubled,  fretted 
souls,  that  they  may  have  life  more  abundantly. 
He  makes  them  conscious,  through  their  own 
unrest,  of  their  need  of  inward  renewal.  The 
old  doctrine  of  conviction  of  sin  was  not 
preached  more  solemnly  by  Jonathan  Edwards 
than  it  is  being  preached  to-day  by  men  of 
strange  lips  and  with  another  tongue.  Thomas 
Hardy  and  Israel  Zangwill,  Henrik  Ibsen  and 
Bernard  Shaw  are  preaching,  in  words  that 
burn,  the  need  of  inward  renewal.  They  seem 
unable  to  point  the  way  of  regeneration,  but 
they  make  clear  the  fact  that  spiritual  renewal 
is  needed  on  the  Avenue  as  much  as  in  the 
slums. 

Pitch  your  tent  some  night  at  Jabbok  Ford 
and  in  the  quiet  of  that  hour  take  stock.  Turn 
your  eyes  away  from  the  flocks  and  herds,  away 
from  the  stocks  and  the  bonds,  and  count  up 
your  inward  possessions.  Ask  your  mind  where 
it  goes  most  easily  and  readily,  when  it  is  re- 
leased from  the  things  it  must  do,  and  is  free 
[50] 


The   Vision  of   God 

to  go  where  it  will.  Ask  your  heart  what  are 
its  prevailing  moods,  when  it  is  alone  and  un- 
hindered. Ask  your  soul  how  far  faith  and 
hope  and  love  are  vital  energies  within  you. 
Ask  what  sort  of  grip  you  have  on  those  un- 
seen verities  which  alone  may  be  trusted  to 
maintain  us  in  the  full  zest  and  relish  of  life 
when  the  evil  days  come.  Take  stock  of  those 
values  which  are  inward  and  spiritual! 

When  you  have  done  that  with  unsparing 
candor  and  thoroughness,  it  may  be  that  some 
of  you  will  feel  as  Jacob  did,  that  all  these 
flocks  and  herds,  all  these  outward  possessions 
and  successes  are  at  the  mercy  of  the  Bedouins, 
who  may  be  even  now  projecting  an  attack.  If 
you  have  not  been  laying  up  treasure  beyond 
the  reach  of  moth  and  rust,  beyond  the  reach 
of  disease  and  death,  you  will  feel  in  that  hour 
as  helpless  as  this  man  of  old.  And  if  you  look 
deeply  into  that  discontent  you  will  find  there 
the  presence  of  the  same  divine  spirit,  disclos- 
ing to  you  your  own  spiritual  poverty.  When 
any  man  faces  his  inmost  need  in  that  serious 
mood,  he  is  moved  to  say,  "  I  have  seen  God." 

Finally,  in  that  grave  hour,  Jacob  saw  the 
One  who  could  work  that  change.  Early  in  the 
evening  he  felt  that  he  had  only  Esau  and  his 
Bedouins  to  reckon  with.  He  felt  that  in  some 
way  he  might  appease  their  wrath,  or  ward 
off  their  attack.  But  as  the  night  wore  on  he 
felt  that  by  his  course  of  selfishness  and  dis- 
honesty he  had  been  defying  the  whole  unseen 
world.  He  had  been  pitting  his  puny  strength 
[51] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

and  cunning  against  the  whole  moral  order. 
He  had  been  putting  up  his  arms  to  fight  the 
Almighty.  Now  that  opposition  stood  athwart 
his  path  like  a  physical  antagonist.  He  wres- 
tled with  it  all  night  long  until  the  breaking 
of  the  day. 

But  as  the  hours  passed  that  mysterious 
presence  in  the  dark  became  not  a  mere  anta- 
gonist opposing  his  evil  course.  Jacob  felt  that 
he  was  dealing  with  One  who  sympathized  with 
his  need  of  a  new  nature.  He  felt  that  he  was 
looking  into  the  face  of  One  who  could  accom- 
plish that  high  end.  We  hear  him  say  in  his 
moral  stress, ' '  Tell  me  Thy  name. ' '  He  would 
not  allow  that  experience  to  pass  until  he  had 
discovered  its  deeper  meaning.  He  would  not 
let  that  Presence  go  until  he  had  been  blessed. 
He  had  stolen  a  blessing  in  early  life  which 
had  profited  him  little.  Now  he  will  gain  a 
higher  form  of  blessing  by  the  might  of  a  new 
purpose,  by  the  consecration  of  his  powers  to 
nobler  ends. 

•  He  did  not  let  that  Presence  go  until  it  had 
blessed  him.  When  the  day  dawned  he  felt 
a  strange  joy  in  the  new  life  within  his  soul. 
He  called  the  name  of  the  place  "  Peniel,  the 
face  of  God,"  for  he  said,  "  I  have  seen  God 
face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved. ' ' 

He  wrestled  all  night  with  the  treachery  and 
meanness  of  his  own  heart.  He  wrestled  with 
the  evil  impulses  he  was  trying  to  cast  out.  He 
wrestled  with  that  mysterious  antagonist  who 
sets  himself  in  opposition  to  every  evil  way. 
[52] 


The    Vision   of    God 

But  still  more,  lie  wrestled  with  that  spirit  of 
grace  which  is  ever  at  hand  to  lift  off  the  sense 
of  guilt,  to  renew  the  springs  of  action  and  to 
change  the  inner  life.  And  when  Jacob  became 
conscious  of  this  contact  between  his  own  finite 
spirit  and  the  Infinite  Spirit  of  grace  he  felt 
that  he  had  seen  God  face  to  face. 

One  of  the  widely  read  religious  books  in  the 
last  decade  was  "  Varieties  of  Eeligious  Ex- 
perience," by  William  James.  His  main  con- 
tention was  that  when  men  are  honest  with 
themselves,  they  discover  that  there  is  some- 
thing wrong  in  their  inner  lives.  They  discover 
further  that  this  wrong  can  only  be  righted  by 
making  new  and  more  satisfactory  adjustments 
to  the  higher  powers.  In  a  word,  the  phil- 
osopher insisted  that  peace  comes  only  as  we 
grasp  the  Unseen  One  who  opposes  our  wrong- 
doing and  makes  us  conscious  of  our  need  of 
renewal,  saying,  "  We  will  not  let  Thee  go 
except  Thou  bless  us."  The  serious  man  dis- 
covers God  in  those  profounder  phases  of  his 
own  inner  life.  He  there  finds  the  One  who  is 
altogether  righteous,  the  One  who  alone  can 
righten  us. 

"Lord: 
Make  me  to  hear  clearly  one  thing, 

Thy  Voice, 
And  hearing,  to  follow,  respond, 

And   rejoice. 
Make  me  to  see  clearly  one  thing, 

Thy  Way, 
And  seeing  to  walk  at  Thy  hand 

Day  by  day. 

[53] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

Help  me  to  seek  only  one  thing, 

Thy  Face, 
And  seeking,  Thyself  to  reflect 

Through  Thy  Grace." 

The  modern  man's  vision  of  God  comes 
mainly  in  terms  of  spiritual  process.  He  does 
not  think  of  God  as  a  majestic  figure  like  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  seated  on  his  great  white 
throne.  He  does  not  think  of  God  as  an  Infinite 
Being  dwelling  somewhere  apart  from  this  life 
of  earth,  directing  it  by  a  system  of  wireless 
communications.  He  thinks  of  God  as  the  in- 
dwelling, sustaining,  directing  presence,  in  all 
these  processes,  visible  and  invisible,  which 
make  up  the  universe.  He  feels  that  God  is 
to  be  known  and  enjoyed  mainly  as  we  touch 
the  deeper  levels  of  human  experience. 

He  is  "  the  living  God."  He  lives  a  real 
life,  a  striving,  militant,  conquering  life.  He 
faces  the  evil  of  the  world  consequent  upon  the 
wrong  exercise  of  human  freedom  and  fights 
against  it.  He  finds  himself  thwarted  in  his 
plans  by  the  unresponsiveness  of  this  human 
material.  He  seems  at  times  to  be  baffled  by  the 
perversity  of  the  human  will,  but  the  struggle 
goes  on.  He  bides  his  time  and  devises  fresh 
ways  of  resisting  the  sin  of  the  race,  looking 
always  toward  moral  victory.  The  struggle 
costs  him  pain  —  our  doctrine  of  atonement 
tells  us  that.  He  comes  blood-stained  from 
Edom,  with  dyed  garments  from  Bozrah.  There 
is  an  eternal  heartache  and  heartbreak  over  the 
sin  of  the  world.  When  any  man  recognizing 
[54] 


The    Vision   of    God 

the  deeper  meaning  of  this  everlasting  struggle 
between  light  and  darkness,  between  good  and 
evil,  enlists  in  this  struggle  himself,  he  enters 
at  once  into  fellowship  and  cooperation  with 
that  living  God.  He  rises  to  that  level  of  ex- 
perience where  he  sees  God  face  to  face. 

Rejoice  that  his  dwelling-place  and  your 
dwelling-place  are  not  apart.  "  In  him  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being."  In  us  he 
lives  and  moves,  accomplishing  his  purposes 
and  achieving  the  joy  of  fatherhood.  Bravely 
and  gladly  accept  that  community  of  interest 
which  belongs  to  the  life  of  the  child  and  the 
life  of  the  Father,  as  they  find  themselves  in 
joyous  accord.  Call  the  name  of  the  place  where 
you  enter  into  that  experience  "  Peniel." 
When  in  the  presence  of  evil  you  feel  the  re- 
straining hand  of  the  moral  sense,  when  you 
feel  a  discontent  prompting  you  to  seek  spirit- 
ual renewal,  and  when  you  find  yourself 
ennobled  by  your  fellowship  with  the  Eternal, 
you  will  rejoice  in  that  you  have  seen  God  and 
your  life  is  preserved. 


[55] 


IV 

THE    CITY   THAT   LIETH   FOUB 
SQUARE 


"  On  the  east  three  gates,  on  the  north  three  gates, 
on  the  south  three  gates,  on  the  west  three  gates."  — 
REVELATION  xxi,  13. 


IV 

THE   CITY   THAT   LIETH   FOUR 
SQUAEE 

rpHE  kingdom  of  God  is  pictured  as  a  mag- 
•l  nificent  city.  It  has  "  walls  great  and 
high."  "  The  kings  of  the  earth,"  the  ruling 
forces  of  human  society  * '  bring  their  glory  and 
their  honor  into  it."  It  has  broad  streets,  and 
through  one  of  them  flows  "  the  river  of  the 
water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal."  There  are 
trees  growing  on  either  side  of  the  river,  bear- 
ing their  ripe  fruit  every  month,  and  with 
leaves  for  the  healing  of  the  people.  The  men 
who  live  in  this  city  walk  and  work  in  the  light 
of  God's  presence.  In  all  that  they  do  "  they 
serve  Him  day  and  night."  "  His  name  is 
written  in  their  foreheads;"  their  very  faces 
reflect  the  character  of  the  One  they  serve. 
They  rejoice  that  "  their  names  are  written  in 
the  Lamb's  book  of  life;"  they  are  registered 
citizens  in  an  everlasting  kingdom.  And  the 
whole  life  of  the  place  is  so  filled  with  the  glory 
of  God  as  to  make  it  shine  like  a  cluster  of 
jewels. 

And  it  is  such  an  accessible  place,  this  king- 
dom of  God !    Three  gates  open  day  and  night, 
[59] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

on  every  side!  "  On  the  east  three  gates;  on 
the  north  three  gates;  on  the  south  three  gates; 
and  on  the  west  three  gates."  It  faces  every 
way.  It  has  three  gates  fronting  squarely  on 
every  conceivable  human  interest  and  on  every 
style  of  temperament.  If  a  man  stands  on  the 
north  side  he  need  not  make  his  way  around 
to  some  other  side  of  the  city  to  enter.  He 
need  not  wait  to  get  some  other  man's  point 
of  view.  He  need  not  delay  until  he  expe- 
riences the  particular  emotional  reactions  which 
some  other  man  enjoyed.  If  he  will  only  stand 
up  where  he  finds  himself,  put  evil  behind  him 
and  face  toward  the  light,  he  may,  by  moving 
straight  ahead,  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 
He  will  find  a  path  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff  lead- 
ing straight  into  the  love  and  service  of  the 
Most  High. 

This  many-sided  city  is  a  picture  of  the  mani- 
fold expressions  of  God's  moral  interest  in 
men.  It  is  a  picture  of  the  varied  provisions 
made  for  divers  lines  of  approach  to  the  Chris- 
tian life.  The  gateways  of  the  kingdom  open 
in  all  directions  that  they  may  serve  the  vary- 
ing needs  of  men. 

We  are  not  all  required  to  enter  the  Christian 
life  in  exactly  the  same  way.  We  could  not  if 
we  would.  It  has  not  pleased  the  Almighty  to 
make  human  beings  like  clothespins,  to  be 
counted  off  by  the  gross  and  packed  in  bunches. 
There  is  never  a  soul  in  all  the  earth  which  is 
the  exact  counterpart  of  any  other  soul.  We 
do  find  twins,  physically  speaking,  but  they  are 
[60] 


City    That    Lie  th    Four    Square 

never  alike  in  temperament  and  disposition. 
Esau  and  Jacob  were  twins,  but  they  were  as 
unlike  as  William  H.  Taft  and  Theodore  Roose- 
velt. Every  human  soul  possesses  its  own 
individuality.  This  endless  variety  makes  it 
necessary  that  the  lines  of  approach  to  the 
deepest  things  in  life  should  be  many  and 
varied.  "  On  the  east  three  gates;  on  the 
north  three  gates;  on  the  south  three  gates; 
and  on  the  west  three  gates." 

Let  us  think  of  what  those  gates  signify! 
We  will  look  first  at  the  east  gates.  The  east 
is  where  we  watch  for  the  sunrise  —  the  day 
begins  there.  It  is  the  realm  of  beginnings. 
It  is  the  home  of  that  which  is  new,  fresh, 
unworn.  In  a  word,  the  three  gates  on  the  east 
front  upon  the  childhood  of  the  race. 

Above  each  one  you  find  a  text  inscribed,  a 
veritable  word  of  the  Lord.  Over  the  first, 
11  He  took  a  child  and  set  him  in  the  midst." 
Over  the  second,  "  Suffer  the  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not  for  of  such 
is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Over  the  third, 
"  A  little  child  shall  lead  them."  The  kingdom 
of  God  is  easily  and  readily  accessible  to  the 
boys  and  girls.  The  parents  and  the  teachers 
of  the  world  rejoice  when  they  see  those  three 
gates  opened  ever  toward  the  east. 

This  fact  has  an  important  bearing  on  the 
great  interest  of  Christian  nurture.  We  are 
sometimes  asked  if  it  is  necessary  for  children 
reared  in  Christian  homes  to  be  converted.  It 
certainly  is,  —  every  one  must  be  converted  in 
[61] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

order  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  for 
such  a  child  conversion  means  the  conscious, 
deliberate  acceptance  for  himself  of  that  mode 
of  life  to  which  he  has  been  reared.  When  his 
attitude  toward  Christ  is  no  longer  mere  cus- 
tom or  habit  into  which  he  has  been  led  by 
those  who  love  him,  but  his  own  glad,  voluntary 
choice  as  well,  then  that  new  attitude  consti- 
tutes his  conversion.  It  is  the  conscious  turning 
of  the  soul  toward  the  mercy  and  the  service 
of  God.  The  coming  of  that  conscious  per- 
sonal decision  may  occupy  a  few  vital  moments 
in  some  spiritual  crisis  in  the  child's  life  or  it 
may  stretch  through  months  or  years  of  growth. 
It  matters  not  —  whenever  the  voluntary  turn- 
ing of  the  soul  to  God  and  the  joyous  accep- 
tance of  his  service  as  the  highest  mode  of  life 
arrive  the  child  enters  through  his  own  gate 
into  the  city. 

Have  our  friends,  the  Roman  Catholics,  built 
those  east  gates  more  solidly  and  more  wisely 
than  have  their  Protestant  neighbors  ?  We  feel 
that  the  content  of  Christian  faith  and  life,  as 
they  present  it,  is  faulty,  but  they  have  been 
wise  beyond  a  peradventure  in  keeping  those 
east  gates  open  for  the  children  day  and  night. 
The  Eoman  Church  owes  a  large  part  of  its 
influence  to  the  clear,  strong  emphasis  it  has 
placed  on  the  work  of  Christian  nurture. 

The  wise  minister  of  Christ  spends  much  of 

his  time  and  thought  and  love  on  the  east  side 

of  the  kingdom.    He  goes  out  to  greet  the  boys 

and  girls,  the  young  men  and  maidens,  as  they 

[62] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

come  up  from  the  land  of  the  sunrise  in  all 
the  fresh  vigor  of  their  youth.  He  keeps  him- 
self in  sympathetic  touch  with  their  moods  and 
needs.  If  he  can  make  the  Christian  life  seem 
real  and  true,  with  never  a  note  that  is  forced 
or  artificial  or  perfunctory  in  his  presentation 
of  it,  he  will  win  them.  We  are  just  scratching 
the  surface  of  the  possibilities  to  be  revealed 
when  we  enter  into  the  full  meaning  of  these 
better  methods  of  religious  education  and  of 
Christian  nurture.  When  we  have  learned  how 
to  face  youth  aright  with  the  fullness  of  the 
Christian  message,  those  three  gates  on  the 
east  will  be  thronged  with  boys  and  girls, 
bringing  their  unwearied  energy  into  the  life 
of  the  kingdom. 

"And  on  the  south  three  gates!"  The 
south  is  the  place  of  warmth.  It  is  the  realm 
of  feeling.  The  men  of  the  north,  the  Scotch, 
the  Scandinavians,  the  Russians,  never  show 
that  warmth  of  feeling  found  among  the  Span- 
iards, the  Italians,  and  the  Greeks.  Here  at 
home  the  people  of  the  South,  white  and  black, 
possess  a  fervor  in  their  sympathies,  in  their 
sentiments  and  in  their  enthusiasms  which 
Northern  people  lack.  If  we  go  farther  into 
the  tropics  this  warmth  of  feeling,  when  it  has 
not  been  mastered  by  intelligence  and  moral 
purpose,  becomes  a  serious  problem.  But  there, 
fronting  upon  that  sunnier  side  of  human 
nature,  is  the  southern  exposure  of  this  four- 
square city,  with  three  gates  inviting  warm- 
hearted men  and  women  into  the  love  and 
[63] 


The  Quest  of  Life 

service  of  God.  Over  the  first  is  written,  "  Out 
of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life."  Over  the 
second,  "  With  the  heart  man  believeth  unto 
righteousness."  Over  the  third,  "  My  heart 
and  my  flesh  cry  out  for  the  living  God." 

This  element  in  human  nature  has  been  oft 
abused.  There  are  men  and  women  who  live 
in  a  chronic  state  of  religious  excitement,  in 
a  perfect  whirl  of  emotional  fervor,  yet  their 
moral  perceptions  are  frequently  confused. 
They  make  us  feel  poverty-stricken  when  it 
comes  to  a  show  of  feeling,  yet  they  are  not 
always  able  to  tell  the  truth  or  to  show  them,- 
selves  quite  honest  in  money  matters.  We 
would  not  call  them  liars  and  thieves,  but  their 
ethical  sense  is  surely  overborne  by  this  excess 
of  emotion. 

Sometimes  these  highly  colored  tempera- 
ments undertake  to  lord  it  over  the  rest  of  us 
who  live  in  the  temperate  zones  —  the  great 
temperate  zones,  which,  after  all,  transact  the 
serious  business  of  life,  for  neither  the  tropics 
nor  the  arctics  have  written  the  most  important 
pages  in  the  history  of  the  race.  These  ardent 
natures,  capable  of  profound  dejection  on  ac- 
count of  their  sins,  and  capable  of  correspond- 
ing elation  over  their  sense  of  deliverance, 
sometimes  speak  slightingly  of  the  experience 
of  those  who,  in  less  striking  ways,  find  their 
entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  They  may 
almost  shut  the  door  in  the  faces  of  those  who 
make  their  approach  to  the  Christian  life  with- 
out a  proper  show  of  feeling. 
[64] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

All  this  I  know  well,  but  still  the  heart  has 
its  rights.  Where  feeling  is  officered  by  in- 
telligence and  turned  into  channels  of  useful 
service,  the  more  feeling  the  better.  We  can- 
not have  too  much  of  it.  Would  that  we  might 
stir  men  more  deeply  with  a  feeling  of  the 
awfulness  of  doing  wrong  in  the  sight  of  him 
who  loves  us!  Would  that  we  felt  more  pro- 
foundly the  meanness  of  insulting  God's  pur- 
pose for  us,  by  open  defiance  or  by  flat  indif- 
ference! Would  that  we  all  might  experience 
more  deeply  the  everlasting  joy  of  entering 
into  conscious  fellowship  with  our  Maker  for 
the  accomplishment  of  high  ends !  Would  that 
we  all  might  rise  to  the  peace  and  serenity 
which  possess  the  life  hid  with  Christ  in 
God! 

This  is  not  logic;  it  is  not  ethics;  it  is  not 
philosophy;  it  is  religious  feeling.  We  are 
here  indicating  phases  of  personal  experience 
in  the  deep  things  of  God.  Would  that  we  had 
tenfold  more  of  it  in  all  our  churches!  Out 
of  the  heart,  out  of  the  hopes  and  fears,  out 
of  the  sentiments  and  devotions,  out  of  the 
aspirations  and  enthusiasms,  come  the  mighty 
issues  of  life.  And  there  are  three  gates  on 
the  south  side  of  the  city  to  welcpme  these 
generous  impulses  into  the  life  of  the  kingdom. 

It  seems  clear  that  our  Methodist  friends 
have  surpassed  us  in  this  form  of  religious 
culture.  The  average  congregation  of  Metho- 
dists will  sing  a  hymn  more  effectively  than 
would  a  similar  number  of  Congregationalists. 
[65] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

They  sing  better,  not  because  they  are  better 
musicians,  but  because  they  have  more  reli- 
gious feeling.  They  are  steadily  adding  to 
their  stock  of  religious  feeling  by  their  ready 
participation  in  Christian  song. 

Matthew  Arnold  said,  "  Religion  is  morality 
touched  with  emotion."  He  touched  lightly 
upon  a  vital  truth.  When  any  moral  principle 
is  caught  and  held  within  the  grip  of  those 
mighty  sentiments,  awakened  by  a  direct  vision 
of  the  eternal  verities,  giving  more  august 
sanction  to  the  right  and  uttering  more  terrible 
warning  against  the  wrong,  the  strength  of  that 
principle  is  multiplied  by  ten.  When  the 
righteous  man  is  made  conscious  of  his  coopera- 
tion with  the  will  of  God,  his  own  purposes  are 
mightily  reenforced.  He  rises  by  faith  and  by 
feeling  into  a  sense  of  participation  in  a  vaster 
and  more  enduring  moral  enterprize.  And 
ample  provision  is  made  for  those  deeper  emo- 
tions of  life  by  three  gates  opening  toward  the 
south. 

"  And  on  the  north  three  gates."  These 
gates  front  upon  a  colder  quarter.  They  open 
toward  a  region  of  cool  intelligence.  The  im- 
pulses of  hope  and  belief  are  carefully  scru- 
tinized. The  philosophies  of  life  are  here 
definitely  wrought  out.  The  singing  may  be 
less  hearty;  the  exhortations  are  not  so  loud; 
the  flags  which  fly  have  less  color  in  them,  and 
the  drums  may  not  beat.  But  withal,  it  is  a 
region  where  a  deal  of  quiet,  serious,  honest 
thinking  takes  place.  It  is  a  section  of  human 
[66] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

experience  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed;  it  has 
its  own  intrinsic  moral  worth.  Facing  upon 
it  there  are  three  gates.  Over  the  first  is 
written,  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom."  Over  the  second,  "  I  am 
the  truth,  and  ye  shall  know  the  truth  and  the 
truth  shall  make  you  free."  Over  the  third, 
' '  Study  to  show  thyself  approved  unto  God, ' ' 

The  great  majestic  order  where  we  stand  is 
grounded  in  reason.  Every  added  century 
deepens  man's  confidence  in  this  fundamental 
affirmation.  The  only  life  which  can  justify 
itself  is  the  life  become  rational  and  righteous. 
Fellowship  between  the  finite  spirit  and  the 
Infinite  Spirit  is  natural  and  imperative,  where 
men  order  their  lives  in  the  light  of  the  Su- 
preme Intelligence.  It  was  this  clear  fact 
which  led  President  Eliot  to  say  to  the  boys  at 
Harvard,  "  Prayer  is  the  transcendent  act  of 
human  intelligence."  The  greatest  thing  that 
any  mind  ever  does  is  to  pray. 

Gird  up  the  loins  of  your  mind,  and  think 
seriously  upon  the  fundamentals,  the  being  of 
God  and  the  fact  of  duty,  the  high  privilege 
of  prayer  and  the  moral  achievements  of  re- 
demption, the  hope  of  a  future  life  and  the 
certainty  of  a  final  judgment !  You  were  meant 
to  know  these  things. 

"  Come  now,  let  us  reason  together,  saith 
the  Lord!  "  The  Almighty  himself  stands  at 
the  north  gate  inviting  us  to  match  up  our 
conceptions  as  to  the  meaning  and  value  of 
human  existence  with  his.  He  invites  us  to 
[67] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

hold  high  conference  with  him,  touching  the 
august  interests  of  life.  Our  ways  may  not 
be  his  ways,  nor  our  thoughts  his  thoughts, 
but  this  lack  of  agreement  is  not  meant  to  be 
permanent.  It  is  to  be  the  unending  effort  of 
moral  aspiration  to  achieve  harmony  between 
our  human  thought  and  the  divine  purpose. 
We  are  to  strive  for  the  sense  of  agreement 
between  our  ways  and  his  ways.  It  is  neither 
presumptuous  nor  futile  to  make  this  high  at- 
tempt, for  on  the  north  there  are  three  gates 
inviting  the  ripest  judgment  of  the  human  mind 
into  the  love  and  service  of  God. 

It  may  be  that  as  Congregationalists  we 
have  made  our  best  showing  on  this  side  of 
the  city  that  lieth  four  square.  We  have  not 
been  lacking  in  the  power  of  direct  appeal,  for 
three  of  the  greatest  evangelists  America  has 
produced,  Jonathan  Edwards,  Charles  G. 
Finney,  and  Dwight  L.  Moody,  were  all  of  them 
Congregationalists.  But  we  have  given  the 
larger  part  of  our  strength  to  the  work  of 
instruction  and  persuasion. 

We  have  entrusted  our  interests,  for  the 
most  part,  to  the  slow,  irresistible  processes 
of  education.  How  many  Christian  colleges 
have  been  founded  by  the  people  of  our  faith 
and  order!  Harvard  and  Yale,  Williams  and 
Dartmouth,  Amherst  and  Bowdoin,  Oberlin  and 
Beloit,  Grinnell  and  Whitman,  Wellesley  and 
Smith,  Mount  Holyoke  and  Mills  with  a  score 
of  other  similar  institutions.  They  were  all 
founded  by  Congregationalists !  We  have  made 
[68] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

our  main  approach  to  the  inner  life  with  the 
reasonableness  and  the  winsomeness  of  the 
truth. 

If  we  should  fail  to  make  as  strong  an  appeal 
to  the  emotional  life  as  do  some  of  our  fellow- 
Christians;  if  we  should  not  impress  men 
equally  from  the  aesthetic  side  by  noble  archi- 
tecture and  stately  ritual;  if  we  should  lack 
something  of  the  strength  which  belongs  to 
close-knit  and  highly  organized  polity,  we 
might  still  find  ourselves  useful  in  presenting 
clearly  and  cogently  the  august  claims  of  the 
truth.  And  fronting  upon  the  north,  the  region 
of  calm  and  cool  reflection,  there  are  three  gates 
to  welcome  thoughtful  souls  who  wait  there  into 
the  life  of  aspiration  and  service. 

"  And  on  the  west  three  gates."  These 
gates  front  toward  the  sunset.  When  we  look 
that  way  we  see  that  it  is  toward  evening,  and 
the  day  is  far  spent.  The  fresh,  uncertain 
promise  of  childhood  has  ripened  into  some 
sort  of  fact.  The  heat  and  burden  of  the  day 
has  been  borne  and  night  is  coming  on  when 
the  stars  will  shine. 

It  is  the  side  of  life  which  all  men  and  women 
regard  more  seriously  when  they  find  them- 
selves growing  old.  They  are  thinking  of  the 
time  when  their  work  will  be  done  and  they 
will  be  ready  for  the  rest  which  remains  for 
the  people  of  God.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  there 
are  three  gates  —  the  kingdom  of  God,  with  all 
its  hopes  and  helps,  is  still  accessible.  Over 
the  first  gate  is  written,  "  At  evening  it  shall 
[69] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

be  light."  Over  the  second,  "  The  hoary  head 
is  a  crown  of  glory  if  it  be  found  in  the  way 
of  righteousness."  Over  the  third,  "  He  that 
endure th  to  the  end  shall  be  saved."  And 
through  these  wide  gates  men  who  have  walked 
and  worked  for  many  years  are  entering  with 
joy  into  the  kingdom. 

Some  of  you  have  lived  longer  than  I  have. 
You  have  walked  farther,  you  have  seen  more, 
you  have  suffered  what  I  have  not.  The  colors 
which  your  youthful  associates  once  knew  are 
fading  out  of  the  hair,  the  cheek,  and  the  beard. 
The  fire  in  your  eye  burns  low  and  more  softly. 
In  the  nature  of  things  it  may  not  be  long  until 
you  will  hear  the  sunset  gun.  But  I  have  it 
upon  the  word  of  Jesus  Christ  —  and  whose 
word  would  you  rather  trust  than  his  ?  —  that 
no  matter  how  long  or  how  joyously  you  have 
lived,  there  is  before  you,  if  you  will  have  it 
so,  an  eternity  of  high  privilege.  In  the  face 
of  such  a  possibility,  there  can  be  no  more 
serious  obligation  than  to  set  one's  house  in 
order,  to  adjust  one's  aspirations  to  the  high- 
est ideals  in  sight,  and  to  lay  hold  confidently 
upon  those  sources  of  divine  help  which  men 
have  tried  and  found  good. 

I  lived  for  many  years  beside  the  Golden 
Gate  in  California.  It  opens  toward  the  west. 
I  have  seen  the  sun  set  in  it  a  hundred  times. 
I  have  seen  the  great  ships,  the  Manchuria, 
the  Mongolia,  the  Siberia,  the  Korea  — 
the  very  names  of  them  indicative  of  our 
points  of  contact  beyond  that  widest  sea  — 
[70] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

sailing  in  and  out  through  that  Golden  Gate 
on  their  way  to  and  from  the  harbors  which 
lie  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  And  I  used 
to  think  of  those  three  gates  into  the  kingdom 
of  God  which  open  toward  the  west.  The  affec- 
tionate interest  of  the  Saviour  of  men  looks 
out  through  each  one  of  those  gates  upon  lives 
grown  mature  without  having  entered  openly 
into  his  service.  Those  men  need  to  come  in. 
They  need  him.  If  they  would  come  in  they 
would  feel  secure  when  the  hour  comes  for  them 
to  set  forth  upon  that  wide  sea  which  men 
cross  in  only  one  direction  —  they  would  be 
safe  with  him  as  the  captain  and  pilot  of  their 
souls. 

"  Sunset  and  evening  star, 

And  one  clear  call  for  me! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar, 
When  I  put  out  to  sea, 

"  But  such  a  tide  as  moving  seems  asleep, 

Too  full  for  sound  and  foam, 

When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep 
Turns  again  home. 

"Twilight  and  evening  bell, 

And  after  that  the  dark! 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell 
When  I  embark. 

"  For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 

The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 
When  I  have  crossed  the  bar." 

' '  On  the  west  three  gates  ' '  —  three  Golden 
Gates ! 

[71] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

The  paths  of  approach,  the  modes  of  access 
to  this  new  life  in  Christ  are  many  and  varied. 
The  gates  of  entrance  are  widely  distributed  to 
meet  the  needs  of  people  varying  in  tempera- 
ment, in  point  of  view  and  in  experience.  You 
need  not  box  the  compass  in  order  to  find  the 
particular  gate  where  some  other  man  entered 
into  Christian  life.  You  need  not  travel  around 
three  sides  of  the  city  to  find  the  place  where 
John  Bunyan,  or  some  other  illustrious  saint, 
went  in.  You  may  begin  now,  right  where  you 
stand.  Put  behind  you  every  purpose  incon- 
sistent with  the  Christian  life  —  that  is  re- 
pentance! Accept  gladly  the  forgiveness  of 
God  offered  in  Christ  for  the  wrong  you  have 
done  —  that  is  faith!  Then  go  forward  along 
the  line  of  that  new  purpose  in  fellowship  with 
him  —  that  is  life,  which  is  life  indeed!  The 
moment  you  do  that  you  will  see  straight  ahead 
of  you  a  gate  wide  open  into  the  city  of  God. 

How  rich  and  how  varied  are  the  appeals 
which  God  makes  to  men !  How  wonderful  his 
love  and  his  interest  in  all  his  children!  We 
have  narrowed  it  by  our  petty  definitions  and 
by  our  sectarian  approaches.  The  city  of  God 
is  large  enough  to  contain  all  the  children  of 
God,  and  the  modes  of  entrance  are  as  varied 
as  their  differing  needs. 

The  light  of  heaven,  as  it  streams  from  the 
sun,  is  one  white  light.  At  the  first  glance  it 
seems  colorless.  We  do  not  suspect  its  rich 
and  manifold  content  until  we  pass  a  ray  of  it 
through  a  prism  and  spread  it  on  the  screen  in 
[72] 


City    That    Lieth    Four    Square 

a  dark  room.    Then  we  behold  all  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow  in  that  one  ray  of  white  light. 

But  the  flowers  knew.  They  grew  together 
on  the  bosom  of  mother  earth;  they  all  blos- 
somed in  the  white  light  of  heaven.  Yet  the 
roses  are  red,  the  violets  blue,  the  buttercups 
yellow.  Each  bud  selects  out  of  that  white  light 
of  heaven  its  own  particular  shade  and  repro- 
duces it  in  terms  of  its  own  individual  beauty. 
So  the  pure,  warm  love  of  God  shines  from  the 
skies  upon  all  the  children  of  men.  Let  each 
man  respond  in  his  own  way,  taking  his  own 
particular  color  in  the  pattern  and  making  his 
own  contribution  to  that  garment  of  righteous- 
ness which  shall  enfold  and  adorn  the  race. 


[73] 


V 

THE   POWER   OF   REQUEST 


"//   thou   Tcnewest  .  .  .  thou   wouldst  ask  .  .  .  and 
he  would  give."  —  JOHN  iv,  10. 


THE   POWER   OF   REQUEST 

YOU  could  hardly  call  it  a  promising  situa- 
tion. The  two  principal  figures  in  the 
scene  stood  too  far  apart.  He  was  a  man,  she 
was  a  woman  —  and  in  the  Orient  that  means  a 
gulf  fixed.  His  disciples  marveled  that  he 
talked  with  a  woman  in  a  public  place.  He  was 
a  Jew,  she  was  a  Samaritan  —  and  the  Jews 
had  no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans.  Race 
prejudice  and  religious  bigotry  had  dug  a  yet 
deeper  gulf.  He  was  the  sinless  Son  of  God, 
she  was  a  woman  openly  immoral,  living  at 
that  hour  with  a  man  who  was  not  her  hus- 
band. Her  own  wrongdoing  had  widened  that 
gulf  into  a  chasm  of  separation. 

The  only  thing  they  seemed  to  have  in 
common  was  the  fact  that  they  were  both 
thirsty.  The  Master  began  on  that  narrow  bit 
of  common  ground.  When  he  saw  the  woman 
filling  her  water-pot  he  said  to  her  courteously, 
' '  Give  me  a  drink. ' ' 

She  instantly  twitted  him  with  the  fact  that 
his  necessities  prompted  him  to  do  an  unheard- 
of  thing.  "  How  is  it,  a  Jew  asking  for  a 
drink  from  a  woman  of  Samaria?  The  Jews 
[77] 


The   Quest  of  Life 

have  no  dealings  with  the  Samaritans."  And 
as  the  conversation  proceeds  she  is  full  of 
banter  and  argument.  You  are  pained  to  see 
that  she  does  not  appreciate  her  opportunity. 
There  she  was  —  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ!  She  could  look  into  his  face; 
she  could  hear  his  voice;  she  could  feel  the 
power  of  his  moral  interest;  she  could  enter 
into  personal  conference  with  that  august 
soul.  It  was  the  chance  of  a  lifetime;  it  was 
one  of  the  greatest  opportunities  in  twenty 
centuries  of  human  experience.  Yet  she  wastes 
her  time  and  his  in  useless  banter. 

How  dreadful  to  have  an  opportunity  like 
that  and  not  recognize  the  value  of  it!  He 
spoke  to  her  about  "  living  "  water  and  she 
thought  he  was  talking  about  some  well  nearer 
to  her  wretched  home  so  that  she  would  not 
need  to  come  all  the  way  hither  to  draw.  He 
uncovered  the  moral  disgrace  of  her  own  life 
by  that  searching  question  about  a  '  *  husband, ' ' 
and  she  thinks  he  is  a  kind  of  a  fortune-teller, 
one  who  might  tell  her  all  the  things  she  ever 
did.  He  spoke  to  her  about  worshiping  God 
"  in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  an  inward  and  a 
genuine  worship,  and  she  burst  out  with  her 
silly  question  as  to  whether  men  ought  to  wor- 
ship in  this  mountain  or  at  some  other  moun- 
tain or  in  Jerusalem.  She  constantly  met  his 
sympathetic  interest  in  her  life  with  a  kind  of 
rude  joking.  And  Jesus,  moved  by  the  pathos 
of  her  indifference  to  the  higher  values  at 
stake  in  that  interview,  said  to  her  sadly,  "  If 
[78] 


The   Power   of   Request 

thou  knewest  who  it  is  that  saith  unto  thee 
1  give  me  to  drink  '  thou  wouldst  ask  of  Him 
and  He  would  give  thee  living  water."  If 
thou  knewest,  thou  wouldst  ask ;  and  he  would 
give! 

How  many  times  this  scene  at  Jacob's  well 
is  reenacted!  You  seek  to  bring  some  fellow- 
mortal  into  the  presence  of  the  mighty  truths 
of  religion  and  he  has  nothing  to  offer  but  ban- 
ter and  quibble.  You  mention  the  Bible  and  he 
perpetrates  some  feeble  joke  about  Jonah  and 
the  whale.  You  mention  the  Church  and  his 
mind  is  off  like  a  rat  to  bring  out  some  story 
of  an  untrustworthy  deacon.  You  strive  to 
show  him  the  well  that  is  deep  and  he  jumps  up 
and  down  in  the  puddles  of  his  own  shallow 
conceit  trying  to  splash  your  honest  interest 
with  mud.  One  would  suppose  that  his  inward 
thirst,  his  sense  of  unrest  and  destitution,  his 
longing  for  something  better  than  the  impover- 
ished quality  of  life  he  shows,  would  prompt 
him  to  seek  that  living  water.  It  is  not  so. 
You  have  seen  men  on  the  road  to  Emmaus, 
and  when  a  mysterious  figure  joined  them, 
walked  with  them,  talked  with  them,  caused 
their  hearts  to  burn  within  them  by  his  finer 
interpretation  of  human  experience,  their  eyes 
were  holden.  They  did  not  know  him.  They 
allowed  the  opportunity  to  pass  without  having 
made  itself  known  to  them  in  the  breaking  of 
such  bread  as  they  had  never  eaten  in  all  their 
lives. 

What  a  picture  of  the  whole  sad  tragedy 
[79] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

enacted  every  day  in  the  year !  Here  are  men 
and  women  who  allow  opportunities,  sublime  in 
their  ultimate  possibilities,  to  come  within  arm 's 
length  only  to  let  them  slip  by  without  having 
yielded  their  help!  There  is  a  tide  in  the 
affairs  of  men.  There  is  ebb  and  flow  in  the 
world  of  moral  forces  as  well  as  in  the  mighty 
ocean. 

"  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows,  and  in  miseries. 
.  .  .  We  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves, 
Or  lose  our  venture." 

Here,  in  some  moment  of  high  spiritual  privi- 
lege, comes  the  best  moment  thus  far  in  all 
your  life.  If  you  know,  you  will  ask;  and  he 
will  give. 

While  the  congregation  was  singing  the  hymn 
—  just  before  the  sermon  —  in  my  church  in 
California,  the  ushers  were  accustomed  to  throw 
all  the  doors  of  the  church  wide  open.  The 
climate  there  is  mild  the  year  round  and  they 
wanted  an  influx  of  fresh  air  in  the  middle  of 
the  service.  The  church  stood  on  a  busy  street, 
the  doors  opening  out  on  the  sidewalk.  Next 
door  there  was  a  large  theater  which  was  open 
on  Sunday  night  as  on  any  other  night.  And 
through  the  wide  doors  at  the  end  of  the  broad 
aisle  I  used  to  see  passers-by  stop  and  stand 
on  the  sidewalk,  listening  to  the  music.  Some- 
times there  were  a  hundred  of  them  before  we 
finished  the  singing  of  the  hymn. 
[80] 


The   Power   of   Request 

One  Sunday  night  George  Adam  Smith,  of 
Aberdeen,  was  to  preach  for  me.  Just  before 
his  sermon  the  great  congregation,  led  by  organ 
and  choir,  was  singing  with  a  mighty  swing, 

"  In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 
Towering  o'er  the  rocks  of  time, 
All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime." 

And  scores  of  people  were  standing  there  on 
the  outside  listening  to  that  act  of  worship.  I 
felt  like  calling  to  them,  "  If  you  only  knew! 
If  you  only  knew  that  here  in  God's  house 
one  of  the  most  gifted  and  devoted  men  in 
Scotland  is  ready  to  speak,  you  would  come  in 
and  ask  and  he  would  give  you  a  message  from 
the  Eternal."  But  the  hymn  ended  and  the 
doors  were  shut  and  they  passed  on  into  the 
theater.  The  tide  for  them  was  not  taken  at 
the  flood. 

Let  me  indicate  first  the  importance  of  culti- 
vating the  power  of  insight  as  to  the  real 
meaning  of  each  opportunity.  He  that  hath 
eyes  to  see,  let  him  see !  It  is  foolish  and  wicked 
to  stumble  and  blunder,  imperiling  your  inter- 
ests as  some  blind  man  might,  when  you  have 
eyes.  It  is  criminal  to  keep  the  ordinary  eyes, 
or  the  eyes  of  the  mind,  or  the  eyes  of  the  soul 
shut  when  they  might  be  open. 

Say  to  every  opportunity  which  signals  you 

what  Jacob  said  that  night  to  the  angel,  "  Tell 

me   thy   name."     Show  me   thy   significance! 

All  the  Samaritan  woman  saw  in  that  situa- 

[81] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

tion  at  Jacob's  well  was  a  chance  to  joke  with 
a  Jew  over  his  being  so  thirsty  on  a  hot  day 
that  he  was  compelled  to  ask  for  a  drink  from 
a  woman  of  Samaria.  For  a  time  that  was  as 
far  as  she  got  into  the  meaning  of  that  splen- 
did opportunity. 

On  your  way  home  from  church  you  will  see 
well-dressed,  bright-faced  young  men  hanging 
around  the  cigar  stands  or  at  the  doors  of 
cheap  places  of  amusement.  They  are  trying 
to  "  kill  time,"  as  they  put  it,  though  they 
have  already  slaughtered  golden  hours  enough 
to  fill  a  cemetery.  You  will  see  others  spend- 
ing the  entire  day  set  apart  for  thoughtfulness 
and  aspiration  in  the  thankless,  fruitless  task 
of  staring  at  the  cheap  pictures  and  the  poorly 
written  stuff  in  the  big  Sunday  edition.  It  is 
sold  in  bulk  and  accurately  known  as  "  read- 
ing matter." 

Meanwhile  they  are  allowing  the  great  books 
by  the  master  minds  of  the  ages  to  go  unread. 
They  are  entirely  ignoring  the  services  of  wor- 
ship and  fellowship,  which  stand  like  open  doors 
inviting  them  to  spiritual  advance.  Within 
stone's  throw  there  are  opportunities  which, 
enjoyed  Sunday  after  Sunday,  would  register 
an  impress  upon  the  moral  nature,  causing  it 
to  rejoice  in  the  image  and  likeness  of  God. 
You  feel  like  saying  to  each  one  of  those  young 
men,  "  Is  it  possible  that  you  cannot  find  any- 
thing better  than  these  poor,  weak,  cheap  diver- 
sions which  eat  up  the  hours,  as  Pharaoh 's  lean 
cows  ate  the  fat  ones,  remaining  as  lean  as 
[82] 


The   Power   of   Request 

before?  "  In  view  of  their  loss  you  do  say  in 
your  heart,  "  If  you  knew,  you  would  ask." 

When  the  woman  came  out  with  her  water- 
pot  that  day  she  saw  nothing  but  the  water  in 
the  well.  The  water  in  the  well  has  its  uses. 
It  can  slake  physical  thirst.  But  there  was 
One  sitting  by  the  well  who  could  meet  a  deeper 
kind  of  need.  When  a  man  has  done  wrong 
and  feels  the  burden  of  guilt  upon  his  soul 
what  can  the  water  in  the  well  do  for  him? 
When  some  soul  has  met  with  a  bewildering 
sorrow  the  utter  lack  of  sympathy  in  those 
great  natural  processes  which  enfold  us  be- 
comes an  added  trial.  Your  own  personal  loss 
may  seem  to  you  to  have  put  out  all  the  stars 
in  the  sky  and  to  have  darkened  the  sun,  but 
next  morning  the  sun  shines  as  brightly  as  if 
nothing  had  occurred.  The  birds  sing  in  the 
trees  as  if  there  was  no  grief  to  be  found  in  the 
universe.  The  flowers  unfold  their  gentle 
beauty.  The  mighty  tides  ebb  and  flow  as  if 
everything  were  just  the  same  when  you  feel 
as  if  the  world  had  come  to  an  end.  It  may 
be  that  your  closest  friends  seem  unable  to 
enter  sympathetically  into  your  loss.  Then  it 
is  that  you  crave  sympathy,  fellowship,  a  divine 
source  of  help  which  will  make  you  brave  and 
keep  you  strong.  The  water  in  the  well,  and 
all  the  other  forms  of  physical  satisfaction,  fall 
flat.  You  turn  to  him  who  stood  by  the  well 
waiting  to  minister  to  all  the  need  the  world 
might  bring. 

The  turning-point  in  many  a  man's  career 
[83] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

comes  when  his  eyes  are  first  opened  to  the 
full  meaning  of  such  an  opportunity.  There 
is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  the  soul  which,  taken 
at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  victory.  In  some  high 
hour  there  came  to  you  a  heavenly  vision.  You 
had  eyes  to  see  what  it  meant.  You  were  not 
disobedient  to  it.  You  tried  from  that  hour  to 
be  true  to  your  best  moments,  and  not  to  your 
worst.  As  a  result  of  that  resolve  you  made  a 
real  advance  into  the  land  of  spiritual  achieve- 
ment. 

It  may  have  come  to  you  as  unexpectedly 
as  it  came  that  day  to  the  woman  of  Samaria. 
She  was  thirsty  and  she  started  with  her 
pitcher  for  the  well.  She  trudged  along  under 
the  hot  sun  all  unaware  that  yonder  at  the  well 
the  chance  of  a  lifetime  for  her  broken  and 
defeated  life  was  waiting.  But  there  it  was 
when  she  came  up.  And  somewhere  along  the 
dusty  road  it  stands  awaiting  every  man.  You 
may  joke  and  banter  as  you  make  your  ap- 
proach. You  may  show  yourself  thoughtless 
and  let  it  pass.  But  it  is  there  —  it  is  there 
for  everyone  who  has  eyes  to  see. 

In  the  second  place,  the  recognition  of  the 
deeper  meaning  of  any  opportunity  should  be 
followed  by  a  resolute  request.  There  is  no 
encouragement  given  to  the  idea  that  the  gifts 
of  God  are  generously  dropped  down  to  us 
with  no  initial  effort  on  our  part.  It  you  want 
to  reap,  you  must  sow.  If  you  want  gold,  dig 
for  it.  If  you  mean  to  advance  in  any  direction, 
take  thought  and  strive  with  all  your  might. 
[84] 


The   Power   of  Request 

It  is  the  only  way.  Ask,  if  you  desire  to  re- 
ceive; seek,  if  you  would  find;  knock,  or  no 
doors  will  open  for  you  into  the  unseen.  Work 
out  your  own  salvation.  God  will  not  work 
within  you  to  accomplish  his  good  pleasure 
otherwise.  Let  your  whole  attitude  as  you 
move  upon  your  way  be  one  of  moral  request. 
Then  and  only  then  will  the  sublime  reactions 
from  the  moral  order  which  enfolds  us  come 
to  you  in  the  fullness  of  their  power.  That 
was  what  Jesus  said  to  the  woman  —  "If  you 
know,  ask." 

The  main  indictment  against  the  people  of 
our  day  will  not  be  that  they  were  too  dull 
and  stupid  to  recognize  the  fact  that  there  is 
something  better  than  this  weak,  thin,  flat  life 
which  so  many  of  them  live.  They  know  that 
there  is  something  vastly  better.  Some  of 
them,  in  earlier  days,  have  lived  lives  more 
worthy  of  their  powers.  There  comes  to  them 
at  times  a  feeling  of  inexpressible  disgust  for 
the  method  of  existence  into  which  they  have 
fallen.  They  are  wearing  themselves  out  to 
gain  things  which  they  neither  need  nor  deeply 
desire. 

But  for  one  reason  or  another  they  have 
allowed  the  inner  life  to  slump.  They  have 
struck  their  flags,  surrendering  the  Christian 
ideals  and  Christian  habits  which  they  formerly 
held.  They  know  that  their  fundamental  need 
is  that  "  gift  of  God,"  the  living  water  which 
would  not  leave  whole  sections  of  their  natures 
still  athirst.  But  they  are  listless;  they  lack 
[85] 


The  Quest  of  Life 

the  spiritual  energy  to  make  the  effort.  They 
feel  that  the  well  is  deep  and  that  they 
have  nothing  adequate  to  draw  with.  Thus 
they  slip  along,  allowing  spiritual  judgment  to 
be  taken  against  them  by  default.  They  know, 
but  they  fail  to  ask. 

"When  Christ  had  risen  from  the  dead  he  met 
his  disciples  in  the  upper  room.  He  was  ready 
to  bestow  upon  them  a  more  potent  and  vital 
equipment  for  their  work.  He  had  shown  them 
his  own  matchless  example  until  the  impress 
of  it  would  never  fade  out  of  their  minds.  He 
had  uttered  his  marvelous  teaching  until  they 
would  never  forget  how  he  spoke.  But  now 
he  desired  to  impart  that  without  which  his 
example  and  teaching  would  be  unfruitful.  He 
drew  them  close  about  him  in  the  intimacy  of 
personal  friendship.  He  breathed  upon  them 
as  if  he  would  impart  his  own  store  of  the  life 
abundant.  As  he  did  this  he  said,  "  Eeceive 
ye  the  Holy  Ghost." 

The  word  he  used  did  not  indicate  a  mere 
passive,  receptive  attitude.  It  was  the  word 
"  lambano,"  take.  Take  ye  the  Holy  Spirit! 
By  your  own  act  of  faith,  by  the  clasp  and  re- 
tention of  your  own  soul,  by  the  resolute  claim 
of  your  own  insistent  will,  take  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost!  Then  by  that  fresh  enduement  of 
power  from  on  high,  live  the  life !  This  is  the 
way  in  which  all  the  great  gifts  of  God  are  to 
be  received.  They  come  in  response  to  some 
act  of  initiative  on  our  part.  If  you  know,  ask, 
take,  retain. 

[86] 


The  Power  of  Request 

The  largest  and  most  luxuriant  plants  in  the 
garden  drink  the  most  water.  They  do  it  by 
the  sheer  vigor  of  their  thrust.  They  send  forth 
their  many  roots,  taking  up  the  moisture  from 
the  soil.  They  send  out  wide  their  many- 
mouthed  leaves  to  catch  the  rain  and  the  dew. 
They  make  the  necessary  demand  for  that 
which  they  must  have  to  live  that  abundant  and 
vigorous  life. 

The  souls  of  men  where  the  inner  life  is  full 
and  strong  drink  steadily  and  drink  deep  from 
the  wells  of  living  water.  They  hunger  for 
righteousness ;  they  thirst  after  the  living  God. 
They  are  only  satisfied  as  they  bring  their 
wills  into  harmony  with  the  enduring  prin- 
ciples of  righteousness,  as  they  come  themselves 
into  personal  fellowship  with  the  infinite  ground 
of  all  finite  existence.  They  want  to  know 
God  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  has  sent,  that 
they  may  have  life  eternal. 

The  first  time  I  visited  Germany  I  spent  a 
whole  day  on  one  of  the  Rhine  steamers  be- 
tween Cologne  and  Mainz.  Near  me  on  the 
deck  sat  an  American  family  —  father,  mother, 
grown-up  son  and  daughter.  We  had  scarcely 
passed  Konigswinter,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon,  when  they  began  to  grumble.  They 
had  asked  the  waiter  to  bring  them  some  ice 
cream,  for  the  day  was  warm.  He  informed 
them  that  there  was  no  ice  cream  on  the  boat. 
They  launched  into  a  fierce  denunciation  of  a 
country  that  did  not  furnish  ice  cream  on  its 
pleasure  boats.  They  compared  that  steamer 
[87] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

with  the  day  boats  on  the  Hudson,  greatly  to 
the  disadvantage  of  the  famous  Rhine.  And 
they  grumbled  steadily  for  ten  hours. 

Meanwhile  we  were  passing  the  Drachenfels 
and  the  Lorelei,  Ehrenbreitstein  and  the  mouth 
of  the  Moselle,  with  all  those  famous  medieval 
castles  and  lovely  vineyards  which  lend  beauty 
to  the  noble  river.  But  their  eyes  were  holden 
and  they  had  neither  words  nor  interest  for 
those  scenes  of  natural  and  historic  beauty. 
All  they  asked  for  was  ice  cream,  and  in  that 
they  were  disappointed.  If  they  had  known 
the  meaning  and  the  associations  of  that  great 
river  they  would  have  asked  for  something 
better.  Have  you  never  seen  people  making  a 
much  more  important  voyage  but  failing  utterly 
to  make  of  it  any  adequate  request? 

In  the  third  place,  when  we  ask  aright  he  is 
ever  ready  to  give.  When  the  Samaritan 
woman  first  began  to  talk  with  Christ  the  only 
water  she  knew  anything  about  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  Jacob's  well.  The  higher  forms  of  satis- 
faction which  he  suggested  had  not  come  within 
the  range  of  her  experience.  But  one  of  the 
charms  of  this  narrative  lies  in  tracing  her 
growing  capacity  for  something  better.  She 
ceased  her  banter  when  Jesus  referred  to  the 
moral  deficiencies  of  her  own  life  — ' '  He  whom 
thou  now  hast  is  not  thy  husband. ' '  She  mur- 
mured, "  Sir,  I  perceive  that  thou  art  a  pro- 
phet. ' '  When  Jesus  ignored  the  bigoted  preju- 
dice existing  between  Jews  and  Samaritans  as 
to  the  place  where  men  ought  to  worship,  say- 
[88] 


The  Power  of  Request 

ing,  "  True  worshippers  worship  the  Father  in 
spirit  and  in  truth,"  the  woman  replied,  "  I 
know  that  the  Messiah  is  coming  who  will  tell 
us  all  things."  And  presently,  because  of  her 
interest  in  finer  things,  she  forgot  her  thirst  — 
"  the  woman  left  her  water  pot."  She  went 
back  to  the  city,  inviting  all  her  friends  to  come 
out  and  see  a  man  who  had  revealed  her  to 
herself.  And  she  added,  "  Is  not  this  the 
Christ?  "  In  that  growing  interest  and  capa- 
city for  better  things  Jesus  had  indeed  bestowed 
upon  her  the  gift  of  God.  If  you  know,  you 
will  ask;  and  he  will  give. 

The  gift  of  God!  Here  is  one  sitting  at  a 
public  well  who  has  it!  He  sits  by  all  the 
familiar  roads  men  travel,  waiting  to  meet 
their  need  with  that  same  gift.  He  stands 
ready  to  touch  us  at  a  deeper  level  of  expe- 
rience. We  have  all  done  wrong,  as  had  this 
woman  of  Samaria.  Her  sins  were  the  coarse 
sins  of  the  flesh,  into  which  she  had  been  be- 
trayed by  an  over-developed  affectional  nature 
indicated  in  the  forming  of  that  series  of  attach- 
ments. Our  sins  may  be  of  the  more  subtle 
and  dangerous  type.  We  have  all  turned  aside 
from  the  path  of  moral  duty.  We  have  all 
followed  our  personal  inclinations  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  will  of  God  and  we  have  done  it 
to  our  hurt.  When  we  stand  in  the  open  before 
his  searching  eyes  we  are  ashamed. 

Then  comes  the  desire  for  deliverance,  for 
inward  renewal,  for  peace.  We  have  drunk  at 
many  wells  and  we  have  thirsted  again.  We 
[89] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

are  seeking  for  some  source  of  satisfaction 
which  will  be  like  a  well  of  water,  springing  up 
into  everlasting  life.  However  it  came  about, 
we  know  as  a  matter  of  personal  experience 
that  when  men  and  women  turn  from  their  sins, 
confessing  them  and  asking  forgiveness,  when 
they  put  their  trust  openly  in  the  mercy  of  God 
in  Christ  they  find  peace.  The  burden  is  gone. 
Eelief  comes.  They  walk  in  newness  of  life. 
You  may  test  it  for  yourself  as  you  demon- 
strate the  fact  that  fire  burns. 

And  however  it  came  about,  we  know  by 
personal  experience  that  when  men  and  women 
seek  to  have  their  moral  natures  steadied  and 
strengthened  through  the  study  of  the  Bible 
and  prayer,  through  the  sense  of  fellowship 
with  the  Lord  and  with  their  fellow-believers, 
that  great  valid  end  is  attained.  Taste  and 
see  and  you  will  know !  Here  is  a  well  of  water 
springing  up  perpetually  for  the  satisfaction 
of  every  thirsty  soul. 

If  I  knew  you  as  intimately  as  some  people 
know  you  I  should  be  able  to  see  here  and 
there  barren  tracts  of  human  experience  which 
are  saying  at  this  moment,  "  We  thirst." 
Here  is  a  man  who  has  never  succeeded  in 
embodying  those  higher  principles  to  which  he 
subscribes  in  his  daily  vocation.  He  is  making 
a  living  out  of  his  calling  but  he  is  not  making 
a  life.  Here  is  a  woman  whose  home  life  is 
disappointing  —  it  is  a  round  of  commonplaces 
which  leave  her  soul  athirst.  Here  is  another 
life  that  has  never  entered  into  the  power  of 
[90] 


The   Power   of   Request 

a  noble  friendship  —  the  idle  chit-chat  of  pass- 
ing acquaintance  is  the  best  it  has  found,  leav- 
ing the  heart  as  dry  as  the  state  of  Nevada. 

For  all  these  needs  the  water  in  Jacob 's  well, 
as  a  symbol  of  all  forms  of  material  satisfac- 
tion, does  not  suffice.  You  need  the  One  who 
sat  by  the  well  waiting  for  the  approach 
of  just  such  need  as  yours.  The  deeper  satis- 
factions come  to  us  as  powerful  reactions  from 
that  spiritual  order  which  enfolds  us.  They 
come  to  us  as  we  know  and  ask  and  receive  the 
gift  of  God. 

"  I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say 

'  Behold,  I  freely  give 
The   living  water;    thirsty  one, 
Stoop  down  and  drink  and  live.' 

"  I  came  to  Jesus  and  I  drank 

Of  that  life-giving  stream; 
My  thirst  was  quenched,  my  soul  revived, 
And  now  I  live  in  him." 


[91] 


VI 
THE   EIGHT   FEONTAGE   IN   LIFE 


"He  Jcneeled  upon  his  knees  three  times  a  day  and 
prayed,  his  windows  being  open  in  his  chamber  toward 
Jerusalem."  —  DANIEL  vi,  10. 


VI 
THE   EIGHT   FRONTAGE   IN  LIFE 

HERE  was  a  young  man  away  from  home 
—  he  was  in  Babylon.  It  was  not  the  sort 
of  place  he  would  have  chosen  for  a  resi- 
dence, but  he  could  not  help  himself.  He  was 
carried  there  a  captive  and  was  compelled  to 
spend  his  life  in  that  pagan  city. 

He  saw  the  wealth  and  the  power  of  it  — 
its  huge  walls  rose  to  the  height  of  three  hun- 
dred feet.  He  saw  the  social  gaiety  and 
dazzling  luxury  —  the  Hanging  Gardens  which 
the  king  had  made  in  honor  of  his  queen  were 
one  of  the  Seven  Wonders  of  that  ancient 
world.  They  rose  in  stately  terraces,  covered 
with  trees  and  flowers;  they  were  thronged 
with  gaily  dressed  people  in  pursuit  of  pleas- 
ure. He  saw  what  these  prosperous  people 
worshiped  —  they  worshiped  Power.  The 
huge  temple  of  Bel  was  grander  in  its  propor- 
tions than  the  temple  of  Karnak  on  the  banks 
of  the  Nile,  grander  than  the  mosque  of  St. 
Sophia  on  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus,  grander 
than  the  church  of  St.  Peter's  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber.  It  cast  a  long,  ominous  shadow 
far  across  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates  when 
[95] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

the  sun  went  down.  In  the  full  strength  of  its 
appeal  from  the  material  side  Babylon  repre- 
sented the  world  in  the  fullness  of  its  power. 

But  the  young  man  was  unmoved  by  all  this. 
He  had  another  city  on  the  map  of  his  world. 
The  walls  of  that  other  city  were  neither  great 
nor  high.  Its  purse  was  never  large  nor  well 
filled.  It  never  became  in  any  sense  a  city 
of  pleasure.  It  concerned  itself  mainly  with 
the  fundamental  verities  of  the  spirit.  And 
the  name  of  this  other  city  was  Jerusalem. 

It  was  the  place  where  the  divine  honor 
dwelt.  It  stood  for  centuries  as  the  center  and 
source  of  the  highest  form  of  moral  aspira- 
tion the  world  knew.  Its  very  name  awakens 
the  deepest  and  sweetest  religious  memories  we 
possess.  Jerusalem,  builded  as  a  city  that  is 
compact  together,  whither  the  tribes  go  up! 
Jerusalem,  city  of  our  God,  the  holy  place  of 
the  tabernacle  of  the  Most  High!  When  this 
young  man  in  Babylon  went  into  his  room  and 
knelt  in  prayer  — ' '  his  windows  open  toward 
Jerusalem  "  —  he  gave  his  life  another  sort  of 
frontage  than  that  furnished  by  the  streets  of 
Babylon.  He  faced  his  soul  upon  the  highest 
—  there  before  the  eyes  of  his  moral  imagina- 
tion was  the  city  of  God. 

With  that  open  window  clearly  in  view  let 
me  speak  to  you  about  the  importance  of  giving 
every  life  the  right  sort  of  frontage.  The 
young  man  in  Babylon  gave  his  daily  life  a 
spiritual  outlook.  The  window  was  only  a 
place  to  look  through  —  it  was  not  a  place  of 
[96] 


The   Right   Frontage   in   Life 

exit,  like  a  door.  Daniel  never  moved  away 
from  the  city  of  Babylon  —  he  lived  and  died 
there.  He  did  his  work  among  those  princes 
and  presidents,  those  satraps  and  counselors 
of  the  pagan  court.  He  showed  himself  faith- 
ful in  the  discharge  of  his  duties  to  Darius,  the 
king. 

But  though  he  could  not  escape  from  an 
environment  distasteful,  he  could,  by  his  habits 
of  devotion,  look  three  times  a  day  upon  a 
fairer  prospect.  He  could  face  his  inmost  soul 
upon  those  massive  fundamentals,  the  being  of 
God,  the  high  privilege  of  prayer,  the  moral 
imperative  of  duty,  the  mighty  achievements 
of  redemption.  He  formed  the  habit  of  stand- 
ing up  in  the  presence  of  some  sublime  truth 
which  he  could  not  see  over  nor  under  nor 
around.  He  threw  up  his  window,  and  yonder 
across  the  wide  stretch  of  territory  which  lay 
between  was  Jerusalem,  the  outward  symbol  of 
an  infinite  system  of  spiritual  help. 

His  house  was  large  and  fine;  it  was  gor- 
geously furnished.  He  stood  next  to  the  king, 
and  the  prime  minister  or  secretary  of  state  in 
such  a  capital  as  Babylon  would  be  grandly 
housed.  But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  luxury  he 
felt  the  longing  of  an  exile.  "  We  have  here 
no  continuing  city,"  he  seemed  to  say;  "  we 
seek  one." 

It  was  five  hundred  miles  in  an  air  line  from 

Daniel's  window  to  Jerusalem.    But  there  are 

distances  which   are   not  measured  in   miles. 

When  he  looked  through  that  open  window  in 

[97] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

the  attitude  of  prayer,  Jerusalem,  with  all  it 
stood  for,  was  within  arm's  length.  He  reached 
forth  and  was  lifted  by  it  to  a  higher  level  of 
thought  and  feeling.  The  One  who  is  not  far 
from  any  one  of  us  brought  that  praying  man 
into  a  sense  of  august  fellowship  with  himself, 
into  the  joy  of  personal  participation  in  the 
accomplishment  of  a  regal  purpose. 

"  Spiritual  frontage,"  Francis  G.  Peabody 
called  it  in  speaking  to  Harvard  men.  The 
inner  life  demands  it  for  its  own  self-realiza- 
tion. If  the  soul  looks  out  upon  nothing  better 
than  the  streets  of  Babylon,  rich  and  gay 
though  they  may  be;  if  the  mind  reads  only 
the  newspaper  and  hears  only  the  talk  which 
reflects  the  sentiments  of  Babylon ;  if  the  heart 
finds  its  chief  pleasure  in  places  of  light  amuse- 
ment or  in  the  more  frivolous  forms  of  social 
contact ;  if  the  inmost  nature  never  rises  above 
the  smoke  and  soot  of  these  commonplace  pur- 
suits, then  inevitably  the  best  that  is  in  a  man 
grows  small,  thin  and  anaemic.  If  he  prizes 
moral  vigor,  stamina  and  endurance  he  must 
have  the  windows  of  his  life  open  continually 
upon  the  superb  sources  of  strength. 

Open  windows  —  they  have  become  a  hobby ! 
And  many  people  not  content  with  that  measure 
of  fresh  air  which  comes  in  through  the  open 
window  provide  their  homes  with  sleeping 
porches.  They  spend  every  possible  moment 
out-of-doors.  Their  lungs  refuse  the  little  sec- 
tion of  air  to  be  had  indoors ;  they  must  draw 
upon  the  infinite  sources  of  physical  renewal 
[98] 


The   Right   Frontage   in   Life 

to  be  found  in  those  wide  spaces  into  which  the 
trees  and  the  grass  have  breathed  the  breath 
of  life.  They  demand  the  air  which  shares  in 
the  freshness  of  the  sea  and  the  tonic  of  the 
hills. 

You  all  need  what  the  open  window  symbol- 
izes for  that  life  which  endures  for  more  than 
threescore  years  and  ten.  You  need  contact 
and  conference  with  those  mighty  restorative 
agencies  which  belong  to  the  city  of  God.  If 
your  inner  life  is  to  measure  up  to  its  best 
estate,  you  need  the  upper  room  opening  out 
upon  a  horizon  bounded  by  nothing  nearer  than 
the  stars  and  the  being  of  God.  You  cannot 
shut  your  soul  behind  brick  walls  or  under  steel 
roofs  and  live.  Look  toward  the  sky !  Go  forth 
and  browse  '  *  in  the  infinite  meadows  of  heaven 
where  blossom  the  lovely  stars."  You  have 
capacity  for  the  highest  —  nothing  less  will 
satisfy. 

There  is  a  better  city  than  this  city  with 
which  you  have  your  daily  dealings.  It  is  the 
city  John  saw  descending  out  of  heaven  from 
God.  He  was  a  Jew  and  he  called  it  the  '  *  New 
Jerusalem."  It  symbolizes  that  ideal  social, 
industrial  and  political  order  coming  down  out 
of  the  realm  of  dreams  to  become  actualized  in 
the  affairs  of  earth.  It  is  a  city  that  has 
foundations,  its  builder  and  maker  is  God.  The 
Eternal  is  responsible  for  these  great  aspira- 
tions we  cherish,  touching  a  life  into  which  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  the  mightiest  forces  we 
know,  shall  bring  their  glory  and  honor.  And 
[99] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

no  matter  how  deeply  and  widely  you  strike 
the  roots  of  your  activity  into  the  soil  of 
immediate  interests  you  need  the  daily  front- 
age of  your  inner  life  upon  that  vaster 
prospect. 

"  The  finest  action  springs  ever  from  the 
largest  consciousness  of  reality  '  says  Dr. 
Jowett.  If  a  man  has  no  far-reaching  spiritual 
vista  but  only  the  narrow  outlook  into  the 
backyard  of  his  own  petty  conceit,  his  conduct 
will  be  weak  and  mean.  Vanity  and  self- 
consciousness  grow  rank  in  hotbeds  where 
small  interests  and  petty  ambitions  disinte- 
grate. You  can  raise  an  insignificant  plant  in 
a  flower-pot,  but  the  oaks  and  the  sequoias 
grow  upon  the  bosom  of  mother  earth,  out 
under  the  open  sky.  They  demand  the  wider 
consciousness  of  reality,  the  greater  range  of 
relationships. 

The  statelier  qualities  of  mind  and  heart 
spring  only  from  a  consciousness  of  spiritual 
reality  similarly  expanded.  Let  your  mind 
out!  Let  it  wing  its  way  toward  that  distant 
horizon  as  the  eyes  of  Daniel  reached  across 
wide  plains  toward  the  Judean  hills !  Then  you 
may  bring  your  conduct  up  to  "  the  style  and 
manners  of  the  sky." 

In  many  a  life  it  is  the  vision  of  distant 
realities  which  becomes  its  salvation.  Here  in 
the  New  Testament  was  another  young  man 
away  from  home.  He  too  had  gone  into  a  far 
country.  He  had  wasted  his  manhood  in  riotous 
living.  He  was  undergoing  the  painful  process 
[100] 


The   Right   Frontage   in   Life 

of  disillusionment.  When  he  had  spent  all 
there  arose  a  mighty  famine  in  the  land.  He 
began  to  be  in  want.  No  man  gave  unto  him. 
He  was  hungry  enough  to  eat  husks  with  the 
hogs. 

When  he  reached  bed-rock  in  his  downward 
course,  he  came  to  himself.  *  *  How  many  hired 
servants  of  my  father  have  bread  enough  and 
to  spare!  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father." 
He  saw  by  the  eye  of  spiritual  imagination  that 
which  set  his  feet  in  the  pathway  of  a  new 
life.  His  mind  was  open  toward  his  father's 
house,  and  what  he  saw  in  that  hard  hour 
caused  him  to  rise  and  go. 

You  cannot  dispense  with  that  proper  front- 
age for  your  own  life.  If  you  were  compelled 
to  live  in  a  cob-house  or  in  a  dog-kennel,  all 
the  more  would  your  deeper  nature  demand  a 
window  opening  upon  that  which  has  size  and 
worth.  And  in  every  situation  you  can  find  for 
yourself  an  outlook  upon  something  higher. 
Open  your  windows  and  gaze  upon  it  until  you 
are  transformed  by  that  renewing  of  your  mind. 
Stand  with  unveiled  face  before  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  as  it  manifests  itself  in  the  finest 
phases  of  human  character  you  have  ever  be- 
held, until  you  are  changed  into  the  same  image 
by  the  Spirit. 

Here  is  a  young  man  who  has  come  up  to  the 
city  of  New  York  to  study  or  to  work  out  for 
himself  a  business  career.  He  may  feel  that 
he  is  in  Babylon.  He  sees  the  wealth  and  the 
power  of  this  mighty  city.  He  sees  the  social 
[101] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

gaiety  and  the  alluring  temptation.  He  is 
separated  from  those  he  loves  and  from  the 
wholesome  restraints  of  home.  He  has  no  one 
to  ask  him  how  he  spends  his  evenings. 

He  is  tempted  to  change  the  clean,  honest 
habits  of  his  youth  and  to  lower  those  stan- 
dards which  he  was  taught  to  hold  high.  He 
is  tempted  to  sacrifice  principle  to  pleasure  and 
to  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance  because 
it  will  save  him  the  effort  involved  in  main- 
taining his  spiritual  ascent.  You  may  spell 
his  particular  temptation  in  all  sorts  of  ways, 
but  it  all  comes  to  this  —  it  is  the  everlasting 
temptation  to  let  go  the  higher  ideals  of  Jeru- 
salem and  to  make  himself  comfortably  at  home 
in  the  lower  wards  of  Babylon.  In  that  hour 
he  needs  the  steadying  influence  of  the  *  *  spirit- 
ual frontage  "  suggested  by  the  open  window. 
He  needs  the  moral  oxygen  of  those  Judean 
hills  blowing  in  upon  him  like  a  tonic  infusion 
of  blood  and  iron. 

In  the  second  place,  this  young  man  in  Baby- 
lon maintained  a  right  frontage  even  though 
it  involved  risk.  The  king  had  published  a 
foolish  decree  that  if  any  one  should  ask  a 
petition  of  any  god  or  man  save  himself  for 
thirty  days  he  should  be  cast  into  a  den  of 
lions.  But  when  Daniel  knew  that  the  writing 
was  signed  he  knelt  and  prayed  to  God  three 
times  a  day,  as  he  did  aforetime.  He  did  it 
with  his  windows  open,  that  he  might  look  out 
upon  the  city  of  God.  He  did  it  with  his  win- 
dows open  that  the  city  of  Babylon  might  look 
[102] 


The   Right   Frontage  in   Life 

in,  if  it  chose.  He  was  not  hiding  behind  the 
door.  He  would  not  keep  his  religion  out  of 
sight.  He  knelt  there,  faced  toward  the  Judean 
hills,  proclaiming  his  unshaken  devotion  to  the 
God  of  his  fathers. 

The  men  of  Babylon  spoke  contemptuously 
of  Jerusalem.  "  It  is  a  wretched  little  hole," 
they  said,  "  off  in  a  rocky,  barren  district.  It 
is  peopled  by  religious  cranks.  When  Nebu- 
chadnezzar, of  Babylon,  attacked  the  place  it 
could  not  defend  itself  —  he  sacked  the  city 
and  robbed  the  temple.  Jerusalem  indeed!  ' 
It  was  an  insignificant  place  in  the  eyes  of 
Babylon. 

But  this  young  man  kneeling  at  the  open 
window  was  in  no  wise  disturbed.  He  never 
allowed  the  sneers  of  the  foolish  to  interfere 
with  the  quiet  and  usual  transaction  of  his 
business.  He  went  straight  ahead  making  his 
steady  ascent  to  levels  of  character  they  knew 
not  of.  The  wealth  and  the  high  walls,  the 
hanging  gardens  and  the  temple  of  Bel  were 
as  nothing  compared  to  what  he  saw  by  the 
eye  of  faith  when  he  looked  out  toward  Jeru- 
salem. 

His  course  involved  a  risk  more  serious  than 
that  of  ridicule.  There  was  that  decree  about 
the  den  of  lions.  We  need  not  stop  to  discuss 
the  historicity  of  this  narrative.  We  are  told 
that  "  the  Higher  Criticism  insists  that  there 
was  no  den  and  no  lions  and  (worst  of  all), 
that  there  was  no  Daniel."  This  does  not 
trouble  me.  It  is  my  own  opinion  that  the  story 
[103] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

was  written  in  the  second  century  before  Christ 
to  nerve  the  discouraged  Jews  in  hard  straits 
under  the  heel  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes.  But 
I  regard  the  real  substance  of  that  story  as  a 
message  from  the  Eternal.  I  have  seen  the 
den  and  the  lions  and  Daniel.  I  have  seen  them 
all  in  New  York,  and  in  San  Francisco,  and  in 
cities  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe. 

This  chapter  in  the  Bible  is  reenacted  every 
day  in  the  year.  You  may  have  been  told  this 
very  week  that  if  you  try  to  be  honest  in 
business  you  will  starve;  if  you  tell  the  truth 
you  will  go  to  the  wall;  if  you  maintain  those 
fine  scruples  you  will  be  a  fool  for  your  pains. 
"  Here  are  the  lions  waiting  to  eat  you!  One 
of  them  is  called  '  Failure,'  and  another  *  Pov- 
erty,' and  another  the  '  World's  Scorn.'  The 
writing  is  signed  —  it  is  all  there  in  black-and- 
white."  In  all  of  its  details  this  ancient  story 
is  true  to  life. 

When  the  decree  had  been  issued  it  was  a 
law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians  that  it  could 
not  be  altered.  It  was  a  way  they  had.  For 
the  king  to  change  a  decree  would  be  to  admit 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake.  And  in  those 
days,  when  an  Oriental  monarch  was  all  but 
deified,  that  would  never  do.  It  was  an  iron- 
clad regulation  which  Daniel  encountered  when 
he  kept  on  with  his  prayer. 

But  if  the  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians 

altered  not,  neither  did  Daniel.    He  too  had  a 

law  established  by  the  King  of  kings.     His 

enemies  found  that  he  did  not  budge  one  inch 

[104] 


The   Right   Frontage   in   Life 

from  the  path  of  duty.  His  sense  of  what  was 
right  became  a  quarter-section  of  Gibraltar  set 
down  athwart  their  decree  about  the  den  of 
lions.  He  proposed  to  stand  true  to  the  highest 
he  saw,  come  what  might.  And  when  that  is 
done,  in  any  quarter  of  the  world,  the  ultimate 
supremacy  of  those  spiritual  forces  mighty 
through  God  to  the  pulling  down  of  strong- 
holds is  manifested  afresh. 

Daniel  was  a  Puritan.  He  lived  a  long  way 
from  Plymouth  Rock;  he  had  been  dead  for 
two  thousand  years  when  that  compact  was 
signed  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower.  He  had 
never  read  a  line  of  John  Milton;  he  knew 
nothing  about  Oliver  Cromwell.  But  he  was  a 
Puritan  none  the  less.  He  insisted  upon  the 
rights  of  the  individual  conscience  as  against 
the  dictates  of  arbitrary  authority.  Let  King 
Darius  publish  his  decree !  Let  the  princes  and 
presidents  insist  that  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians  alter  not !  Let  them  utter  their  threat 
about  the  den  of  lions!  This  ancient  Puritan 
will  stand  for  the  right  as  God  gives  him  to 
see  the  right,  taking  all  the  risks  involved.  He 
will  stake  his  all  upon  fidelity  to  duty  and 
trust  to  the  march  of  events  to  justify  the 
wisdom  of  his  course.  When  you  find  that 
spirit  in  any  land  or  age  you  find  the  Puritan. 

His  enemies  had  it  in  writing  that  if  he 
offered  his  prayer  he  would  be  eaten  by  the 
lions.  Poor,  deluded,  short-sighted  mortals, 
that  was  all  they  knew !  Daniel  himself  did  not 
know  what  the  outcome  might  be  —  he  went 
[105] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

like  Abraham  of  old,  not  knowing  whither  he 
went.  It  was  another  instance  where  moral 
faith  transcended  the  considerations  of  ex- 
pediency. The  man  who  walks  in  the  light 
true  to  the  highest  he  sees,  keeping  his  life 
faced  toward  the  great  right  things  of  justice, 
mercy  and  truth,  walks  in  safety.  Yea,  though 
he  walks  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  he  fears  no  evil,  for  God  is  with  him. 
Facing  his  life  steadily  upon  righteousness  he 
knows  that  nothing  can  permanently  defeat 
him! 

In  the  third  place  Daniel  maintained  his 
right  frontage  systematically.  He  went  into 
the  quiet  of  his  own  room.  He  opened  his 
window  toward  the  west.  He  had  stated  hours 
for  spiritual  exercise  —  he  did  it  "  three  times 
a  day."  He  did  not  pray  in  a  hurried,  scam- 
pering way,  his  mind  distracted  by  a  score  of 
competing  interests  —  "he  knelt  upon  his 
knees,"  his  very  posture  deepening  his  sense 
of  the  sacredness  of  what  he  was  doing.  He 
was  as  methodical  as  the  Standard  Oil  Com- 
pany. And  other  things  being  equal,  the  man 
of  method  is  the  man  of  achievement,  in  things 
spiritual  as  in  things  temporal.  His  sys- 
tematic attention  to  those  interests  which  are 
unseen  and  eternal  enabled  him  to  lay  up 
treasure  toward  God. 

The    discipline    of   method   has    surpassing 

worth.    The  busiest  men  and  women  need  that 

systematic  attention  to  those  interests  which 

transcend  all  others.    You  have  your  hours  for 

[106] 


The  Right   Frontage   in   Life 

meals.  You  would  not  trust  your  physical  well- 
being  for  a  week  to  a  bite  picked  up  here  or 
there  from  any  lunch  counter  you  might  pass. 
You  have  a  time  and  a  place  when  you  put 
other  things  aside  that  you  may  sit  down  be- 
fore him  who  satisfies  our  mouths  with  good 
things,  and  be  fed.  It  is  only  by  systematic 
attention  to  your  needs  that  you  are  able  to 
maintain  a  robust  and  serviceable  physique. 

If  you  desire  moral  stamina  and  spiritual 
energy,  meet  the  conditions  with  equal  fidelity. 
Early  in  the  morning,  before  you  come  down 
into  the  streets  of  Babylon  to  hear  its  talk  and 
breathe  its  impoverished  atmosphere,  open  your 
windows.  Look  out  upon  the  sources  of 
strength.  Wait  upon  him  until  your  soul 
mounts  up  with  wings  like  an  eagle.  Wait 
upon  him  until  your  moral  nature  can  run  upon 
errands  of  usefulness  and  not  grow  weary. 
Wait  upon  him  until  you  can  walk  —  and  this 
is  the  climax  of  the  ancient  promise  —  wait 
until  you  can  walk  at  your  ordinary  gait  in 
the  customary  discharge  of  duty  and  not  faint. 
Put  your  heart  through  its  facings.  Let  it 
gain  a  fresh  sense  of  the  majesty  and  glory  of 
God,  a  fresh  sense  of  the  moral  interest  he 
cherishes  toward  you  —  then  you  will  not  be 
afraid  of  Babylon  with  all  its  lions. 

When  the  day  is  over  and  Babylon  has  had 
its  way  with  you  for  another  eight  hours,  go 
up  and  look  out  through  that  open  window  upon 
those  structures  devoted  to  traffic  of  another 
kind.  Let  your  eye  rest  upon  that  broad  street 
[107] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

which  has  in  the  midst  of  it  the  river  of  the 
water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal.  Let  that  whole 
city  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God,  sweep  in 
upon  your  vision.  -You  sleep  better  when  your 
windows  are  open  spiritually  as  well  as  physi- 
cally. The  oxygen  from  those  mountains  round 
about  Jerusalem  is  good  for  soul  and  body. 
Lift  up  your  eyes  unto  the  hills  from  whence 
cometh  help.  Then  you  will  be  able  to  say,  l '  I 
will  lay  me  down  in  peace  and  sleep,  for  Thou 
makest  me  to  dwell  in  safety." 

Jerusalem,  as  I  have  used  the  term,  is  not 
a  place  on  the  map.  It  is  not  the  name  of  a 
city  forty  miles  east  of  Joppa.  It  stands  as  a 
symbol  for  that  source  of  help  which  is  not 
forty  miles,  nor  one  mile,  from  any  spot  where 
men  and  women  are  tempted  and  tried,  where 
they  struggle  and  fail.  It  is  not  far  from  any 
one  of  us  —  open  the  window  of  your  soul  and 
it  will  impinge  upon  you  like  the  breath  of 
the  morning. 

Your  feet  may  be  treading  the  streets  of 
Babylon;  your  hands  may  be  busy  with  the 
tedious  tasks  of  Babylon;  your  mind  may  be 
held  by  all  the  wearisome  details  which  make 
up  the  ordinary  grind.  So  be  it !  All  the  while 
your  inmost  nature  may  be  open,  inviting,  re- 
ceptive toward  that  nobler  order  of  life  which 
seeks  and  finds  its  fullest  expression  in  the 
lives  of  busy  people.  The  busiest  are  often 
the  best  people,  because  in  all  the  multiplicity 
of  their  interests  they  keep  clear  their  vision 
of  that  higher  world  which  perpetually  yields 
[108] 


The   Eight   F rontag e   in   Life 

to  them  its  strength.  Keep  your  frontage 
right;  let  it  be  unobstructed  by  dishonest  pur- 
pose and  every  modest  scene  of  duty  will  be- 
come ennobled. 

How  many  of  you  know  all  this  by  personal 
experience!  You  may  never  have  been  within 
a  thousand  miles  of  that  great  city  in  the  valley 
of  the  Euphrates.  You  may  never  have  seen 
the  walls  and  battlements  of  Jerusalem.  But 
you  are  familiar  with  every  valley  and  hill 
in  that  whole  region.  You  know  Babylon  and 
Jerusalem  as  you  know  the  Battery  and  Cen- 
tral Park.  Your  knowledge  of  spiritual  geog- 
raphy was  not  gained  by  travel,  it  was  gained 
by  experience  of  the  deep  things  of  God. 

Many  a  man  of  quiet  demeanor  has  been 
able  for  years  to  bid  defiance  to  the  forces  of 
evil  because  his  windows  were  open  toward  the 
source  of  power.  Many  a  woman,  frail  in  body 
and  modest  as  a  nun,  has  stood  valiantly  in 
the  place  of  duty  because  from  the  upper  room 
she  saw  him  who  is  the  strength  of  any  life. 

It  was  so  in  the  life  of  the  Son  of  man. 
"  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith, 
for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  endured 
the  cross,  despised  the  shame,  and  is  now  set 
down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God." 
Wherefore,  seeing  we  are  encompassed  about 
with  a  multitude  of  temptations,  let  us  run  with 
patience  the  race  set  before  us,  looking  unto 
him  —  looking  unto  him ! 


[109] 


VII 
THE   MAN   WITHIN   THE   MAN 


"  This  day  salvation  is  come  to  this  house,  forsomuch 
as  he  also  is  a  son  of  Abraham."  —  LUKE  xix,  9. 


VII 
THE   MAN   WITHIN   THE   MAN 


Son  of  man  came  eating  and  drink- 
-••  ing."  His  whole  habit  of  life  was  in- 
tensely social.  He  was  a  diner-out.  He  was 
found  so  often  at  men's  tables,  enjoying  their 
hospitality,  that  his  enemies  accused  him  of 
being  "  a  gluttonous  man  and  a  winebibber.  " 
The  charge  was  false,  but  the  fact  that  it 
could  be  made  with  any  show  of  reason  indi- 
cates how  far  he  was  from  the  lonely,  ascetic 
type. 

We  are  told  that  he  began  his  public  min- 
istry at  a  wedding  in  Cana  of  Galilee.  He 
entered  fully  into  the  joy  of  the  occasion,  and 
when  the  refreshments  gave  out  he  came  to  the 
relief  of  his  host,  helping  him  to  renew  the 
supply.  When  the  hungry  multitude  followed 
him  into  a  desert  place  to  hear  his  words  he 
felt  called  upon  to  act  the  part  of  a  host.  He 
bade  the  men  sit  down  on  the  green  grass  and 
he  provided  them  with  bread.  He  was  con- 
stantly illustrating  spiritual  truth  from  the 
familiar  experiences  of  social  life  —  his  par- 
ables of  the  great  supper  and  of  the  ten  virgins 
at  the  wedding  and  his  address  on  "  the  bread 
[113] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

of  life  "  are  characteristic.  He  made  the  act 
of  eating  and  drinking  a  perpetual  sacrament. 
The  most  prominent  article  of  furniture  in 
any  Christian  church  is  a  table.  It  is  the 
Lord's  table,  where  Christian  disciples  gather 
in  sacred,  joyous  fellowship.  Jesus  was  in- 
tensely social  in  his  whole  habit  of  life. 

Here  in  Jericho  he  invited  himself  to  dine 
with  a  rich  man.  He  invited  himself  because 
the  rich  man  would  never  have  thought  of  in- 
viting this  distinguished  teacher  of  religion  to 
his  home.  ZacchsBus  had  a  good  home  and 
plenty  to  eat,  for  he  was  rich.  He  would  have 
been  glad  to  exercise  the  grace  of  hospitality, 
but  no  respectable  man  in  Jerusalem  would 
have  accepted  an  invitation  to  the  home  of 
Zacchasus.  He  was  a  "  publican,"  that  is  to 
say,  a  tax  collector  for  the  hated  Roman  gov- 
ernment. The  tax  collector  in  any  country  is 
not  likely  to  be  as  popular  as  Santa  Claus. 
But  the  tax  collector  in  Palestine,  by  reason 
of  the  nefarious  system  in  vogue,  stood  socially 
where  a  gambler  or  a  rumseller  stands  with  us. 
He  was  ostracized.  He  could  not  even  go  to 
church  without  hearing  some  Pharisee  say  in 
his  prayer,  "  Thank  God  I  am  not  an  extor- 
tioner, unjust,  an  adulterer,  or  even  as  this 
tax  collector." 

It  meant  everything,  therefore,  when  this 
master  of  men  looked  up  into  the  sycamore 
tree  and  said,  ' '  Zacchaeus  ' '  —  that  was  the 
tax  collector's  name  but  the  people  of  Jericho 
never  addressed  him  thus.  They  called  him 
[114] 


The   Man   Within   the   Man 

''wolf,"  "  dog,"  "  bear."  These  were  the  af- 
fectionate terms  of  endearment  which  orthodox 
Jews  employed  in  addressing  publicans.  "  Zac- 
chaeus ' '  —  when  Jesus  uttered  his  name  in 
tones  of  respect  it  put  the  man  at  once  in  a 
better  frame  of  mind.  It  was  like  a  drink 
of  cold  water  on  a  hot  day.  "  Make  haste 
and  come  down,  for  today  I  must  abide  at 
thy  house."  Zacchaeus  made  haste  and  came 
down  and  received  him  joyfully.  The  moral 
results  of  that  hour  at  the  dinner  table  are 
here  set  down  in  the  passage  where  the  text 
stands. 

We  notice  first  that  Jesus  saw  another  and 
a  better  man  within  the  figure  of  this  hated  tax 
collector.  Zacchaeus,  a  publican,  a  sinner,  a 
man  hated  by  his  fellow-townsmen,  but  Zac- 
chaeus also  potentially  a  son  of  Abraham,  a 
child  of  God,  a  man  destined  to  share  in  that 
spiritual  enterprise  in  which  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth  are  being  blessed!  Hidden  away 
in  the  depths  of  his  soul  there  was  a  certain 
something  waiting  for  the  call  of  Christ.  He 
had  been  taking  men's  property  by  wrong 
accusation.  He  had  been  hoarding  his  wealth 
as  a  miser,  but  he  had  within  him  the  capacity 
for  a  right  life.  And  on  that  day  when  the 
Son  of  man  came  to  his  house  the  voice  of 
God  spoke  to  the  man  within  the  man. 

There  are  three  ways  of  looking  at  a  sinful 

man.    First,  there  is  the  hard,  that  is  to  say, 

the  wooden,  way.     The  people  who  view  the 

matter  in  this  light  see  nothing  but  the  law 

[115] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

of  righteousness  and  the  act  of  disobedience. 
They  make  no  allowance  for  human  weakness, 
for  long  continued  temptation,  for  mitigating 
circumstances.  They  are  people  who  have  never 
sinned  themselves,  as  they  think,  never  wavered, 
never  doubted,  never  loved,  never  lived.  Their 
eyes  are  holden  and  narrow.  They  see  nothing 
but  the  line  of  rectitude  and  the  step  aside. 
They  offer  no  hope  nor  help  to  men  who  have 
done  wrong. 

There  is  the  lax  way  of  viewing  a  sinful 
man.  These  people  show  an  indiscriminate 
leniency.  "  It  all  comes  in  the  day's  work," 
they  say,  "  the  good  and  the  bad."  And  it  is 
all  pretty  much  alike  —  evil  is  only  good  in  the 
making,  it  is  one  of  the  growing  pains  of  vir- 
tue. "  The  man  reeling  down  the  street  drunk 
is,  after  all,  engaged  in  a  mistaken  quest  for 
God,"  as  a  certain  noted  preacher  of  an  ex- 
tremely liberal  type  had  it  a  few  years  since. 
And  these  soft-hearted  people  go  along  mixing 
their  colors  until  they  have  no  black  and  white 
left  —  only  a  few  indistinct  shades  of  gray. 
There  is  neither  help  nor  hope  for  men  who 
have  done  wrong  with  them  for  all  their  soft 
mush  of  concession. 

There  is  a  third  way,  the  way  of  those  people 
who  are  both  clear-eyed  and  warm-hearted. 
They  never  forget  the  difference  between  right 
and  wrong  —  they  know  that  it  is  like  the  differ- 
ence between  heaven  and  hell.  The  difference 
between  a  good  man  and  a  bad  man  is  like  the 
difference  between  a  sheep  and  a  goat  —  the 
[116] 


The   Man    Within   the   Man 

bad  man,  for  the  time  being,  is  a  different  sort 
of  animal  altogether.  The  men  in  this  third  class 
would  not  think  of  calling  a  thieving,  miserly 
tax  collector  like  Zacchaeus  "  a  saint  "  or  "  a 
man  engaged  in  a  mistaken  quest  for  God." 
They  would  not  suggest  that  there  is  not  much 
to  choose  after  all  between  some  warm-hearted 
woman  of  the  streets  and  Mary  the  mother  of 
our  Lord.  They  keep  their  colors  distinct. 
Black  is  black  and  white  is  white ;  they  do  not 
allow  their  moral  distinctions  to  run  together 
in  a  common  blur.  But  they  have  also  a  kind 
of  second  sight,  a  clairvoyance  for  detecting 
the  hidden  capacity  for  something  better  in 
every  man  who  has  done  wrong.  And  when 
they  see  that  capacity  they  speak  to  it.  They 
call  it  by  name,  as  Christ  did  with  Zacchaeus 
that  day  in  Jericho.  And  that  sympathetic  in- 
sight into  moral  failure  gives  them  power. 

When  I  was  in  Alaska  I  saw  the  work  of  a 
man  named  William  Duncan.  He  went  to  a 
little  village  called  Metlacatla  forty-odd  years 
ago.  He  found  the  Indians  low,  dirty,  ignorant 
and  vile.  They  were  so  immoral  in  some  of 
their  habits  as  to  be  indescribable.  But  Dun- 
can saw  beneath  the  surface.  He  said,  "  God 
made  these  Indians  and  he  made  them  in  his 
own  image."  God  carved  his  image  there  in 
bronze,  as  he  carved  it  in  ivory  in  the  white 
man  and  in  ebony  in  the  black  man. 

William  Duncan  began  to  preach  to  those 
Indians.  He  taught  them,  and  lived  among 
them  as  a  man  of  God.  The  word  of  grace 
[117] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

and  truth  was  made  flesh  and  dwelt  among  them 
in  the  person  of  William  Duncan.  He  kept  it 
up  for  years  until  the  image  of  God  in  bronze 
began  to  show.  Go  to  that  Indian  village  now 
and  you  will  find  every  family  living  in  its 
own  house,  with  all  the  decent  appointments 
of  home  life.  You  will  find  a  bank,  a  coopera- 
tive store,  a  saw  mill,  a  box  factory,  a  salmon 
cannery,  owned  and  operated  by  those  Indians 
engaged  in  profitable  industry.  You  will  find 
a  school  where  Indian  boys  and  girls  are  taught 
to  read  and  write,  to  think  and  live.  You  will 
find  a  church  where  an  Indian  clergyman  is 
preaching  the  gospel  of  eternal  life,  and  an 
Indian  musician,  once  a  medicine  man  beating 
his  tom-tom,  is  now  playing  a  pipe  organ  while 
a  congregation  of  Indians  sing  the  great  hymns 
of  the  church  to  the  praise  of  Almighty  God. 

William  Duncan  was  right  —  God  made  them. 
He  made  them  in  his  own  image.  And  Duncan 
learned  to  call  every  Indian  by  name,  by  that 
new  name  which  embodied  those  higher  quali- 
ties for  which  he  had  capacity.  In  every  case 
he  saw  the  man  within  the  man. 

It  meant  everything  to  Zacchaeus  to  feel  that 
day  that  there  was  one  man  in  Jericho  who 
recognized  that  better  something  in  his  own 
nature  and  stood  ready  to  call  it  by  name. 
Call  any  man  wolf  or  dog  and  he  may 
come  to  act  like  a  cur  or  a  coyote.  Reputa- 
tion is  not  character  —  it  is  only  what  people 
call  a  man;  it  is  only  the  shadow  which  char- 
acter casts,  but  it  can  be  a  pleasant,  healing 
[118] 


The   Man    Within   the   Man 

shadow  for  all  that.    It  was  the  master  of 
English  expression  who  said: 

"Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash;    'tis  something,  nothing; 
'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands; 
But  he,  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 
Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 
And  makes  me  poor  indeed." 

When  Christ  spoke  to  Zacchaeus,  calling  him 
by  name,  indicating  his  respect  for  the  capacity 
of  Zacchaeus  to  become  a  son  of  Abraham,  a 
child  of  God,  it  awakened  a  new  aspiration  in 
the  depths  of  that  unhappy  soul. 

In  the  second  place,  by  his  personal  fellow- 
ship Jesus  helped  that  other  and  better  man 
into  being.  It  cost  Christ  something  that  day 
to  enroll  himself  as  a  friend  of  Zacchaeus.  When 
they  walked  down  street  together  the  people 
murmured  — ' '  He  has  gone  to  be  the  guest 
of  a  man  who  is  a  sinner. ' '  They  thought  that 
there  must  be  a  screw  loose  somewhere  —  a 
man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps.  They 
felt  that  if  he  were  a  prophet  he  would  not  have 
come  to  Jericho,  passing  by  the  leading  mem- 
bers of  the  church  in  order  to  be  the  guest  of 
a  tax  collector. 

The  Master  understood  all  this  and  accepted 
it.  He  was  willing  to  pay  the  full  price  of 
doing  good  in  his  own  way.  There  was  never 
an  hour  when  he  was  not  ready  to  be  wounded 
for  the  transgressions  of  others,  to  be  bruised 
for  their  iniquities,  and  to  accept  stripes  of  all 
sorts  that  they  might  be  healed.  His  readiness 

[119] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

to  incur  the  suspicion  and  hatred  of  Jericho  by 
putting  himself  in  open  personal  alliance  with 
that  better  nature  which  he  saw  in  the  publican 
was  one  of  the  elements  of  his  power. 

Jean  Valjean  came  out  of  the  galleys  a 
discharged  convict.  Every  man  he  met  scorned 
him  because  he  had  been  in  prison.  The  men 
swore  at  him ;  the  women  shuddered  when  they 
saw  him  pass;  the  dogs  snarled. 

He  wanted  to  stay  at  an  inn,  but  the  landlord 
refused  his  money  because  he  had  been  a  con- 
vict. He  went  to  the  stable,  but  the  hostlers 
refused  to  allow  him  to  sleep  in  the  hay.  He 
tried  to  creep  into  a  dog-kennel,  for  it  was 
beginning  to  rain,  but  the  dogs  bit  him  and 
drove  him  into  the  street.  "  I  have  knocked 
at  every  door,"  he  said  to  a  passer-by,  "  and 
every  door  has  been  shut  in  my  face  with  a 
slam."  "  Have  you  knocked  there?  "  said  the 
man,  pointing  to  the  house  where  the  good 
Bishop  Welcome  lived.  "  No."  "  Knock 
there."  When  the  convict  knocked,  there  was 
the  sound  of  a  hearty  "  Come  in."  And  when 
the  bishop  saw  that  it  was  the  convict  his 
sister  had  been  describing  as  having  been  seen 
on  the  street,  he  called  the  man  "  Monsieur," 
and  invited  him  to  sup  with  them  and  to  spend 
the  night.  He  had  as  his  guest  a  man  who  was 
a  sinner. 

And  in  the  middle  of  the  night  Jean  Val- 
jean arose  and  stole  the  bishop's  candlesticks 
and  made  off  with  them  —  as  might  have  been 
expected!  Exactly!  But  that  kindness  of  the 
[120] 


The   Man    Within   the   Man 

bishop  to  the  outcast,  that  faith  in  the  capacity 
of  the  man  to  be  something  better  than  a  con- 
vict, that  readiness  to  give  him  sympathy  and 
personal  fellowship  in  his  moral  struggle,  sowed 
a  tiny  bit  of  influence  which  was  like  a  grain 
of  mustard  seed.  When  it  was  grown  it 
became  a  mighty  tree  of  changed  character 
bearing  its  good  fruit  every  month  in  the 
year. 

Every  minister  listens  sympathetically  to  a 
great  many  stories  which  he  thinks  are  lies 
when  he  hears  them  —  and  it  often  turns  out 
that  they  are  lies.  Every  minister  helps  many 
a  man  who  shows  himself  unworthy.  Every 
man  whose  heart  is  not  made  of  reenforced 
concrete  trusts  to  the  better  impulses  of  many 
a  man  only  to  be  disappointed  in  the  outcome. 

And  all  this  is  to  be  accepted  as  part  of  the 
day's  work.  God  pity  us  if  we  should  become 
so  sagacious  and  prudent  as  never  to  venture 
anything  on  the  prospect,  uncertain  though  it 
may  be,  of  that  man  within  the  man!  God 
pity  the  world  if  Christ  had  been  thus  careful 
of  the  investment  of  his  trust.  If  you  want  to 
help  that  man  who  ought  to  be,  into  being, 
believe  in  him !  Believe  in  Zacchaeus !  Believe 
in  the  capacity  of  the  man  who  has  fallen  into 
the  mud!  Believe  in  the  woman  whom  the 
Pharisees  are  ready  to  stone !  Believe  in  that 
hidden  capacity  for  a  nobler  life  and  your  own 
faith  will  become  a  mighty  agent  in  God's  hand 
for  the  bringing  out  of  that  better  self. 

Suppose  the  man  you  would  help  toward 

[121] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

Christian  life  is  like  ZacchsBus  —  hard,  tight, 
mean,  with  scarcely  a  generous  impulse  left  in 
his  grasping  soul.  I  have  never  observed  that 
much  is  accomplished  by  beating  such  men  over 
the  head  with  hard  words,  even  though  they 
deserve  them  all.  I  have  never  seen  that  much 
headway  is  made  by  stoning  the  wrongdoer. 
When  the  first  rock  hits  him  it  is  not  apt  to 
induce  the  mood  of  aspiration.  I  have  seen 
wonders  accomplished  in  the  work  of  moral 
recovery  where  some  great-souled  man,  in  sym- 
pathetic recognition  of  the  nature  which  has 
gone  down  in  defeat,  puts  himself  in  open 
fellowship  with  the  man  within  the  man.  You 
are  warranted  in  telling  Zacchaeus  that  he  is 
capable  of  being  something  better  than  a  thiev- 
ing, miserly  tax  collector.  Indicate  to  him  that 
he  is  a  son  of  Abraham;  a  child  of  God  with 
a  place  and  a  part  in  that  great  spiritual  enter- 
prise in  which  the  world  is  to  be  blessed. 
When  that  approach  is  made,  we  may  look  for 
results. 

Finally,  Jesus  indicated  the  proper  field 
where  Zacchaeus  could  give  expression  to  that 
better  self.  It  cost  Christ  something  to  walk 
down  street  as  the  guest  of  a  bad  man.  It 
cost  Zacchaeus  something  also  to  receive  Christ 
into  his  house  and  into  his  heart.  It  made 
necessary  a  radical  readjustment.  We  find  in 
the  action  of  this  man  a  full  page  life-size 
picture  of  old-fashioned,  thoroughgoing  re- 
pentance. Where  repentance  is  genuine,  it 
costs.  Tears  are  cheap  —  there  are  those  who 
[122] 


The   Man    Within   the   Man 

shed  bucketsful  of  them  and  they  have  no  more 
worth  or  significance  than  so  much  rain  water. 
Remorse  is  cheap  —  it  may  be  merely  the  pain 
of  being  found  out,  not  involving  any  serious 
change  of  purpose.  Repentance,  where  it  is 
real,  is  more  precious  than  diamonds  and  ru- 
bies. It  foretells  the  upward  movement  of  a 
soul  which  will  outlast  and  outshine  them  all. 
Repentance  means  an  about  face,  the  putting 
away  of  dishonest  purpose,  the  actual  move- 
ment of  the  life  toward  that  light  where  there 
is  no  darkness  at  all. 

It  cost  Zacchaeus  something  to  repent.  His 
two  most  serious  faults  had  been  these  —  he 
had  been  dishonest;  he  had  been  stingy.  Now 
at  the  very  point  where  he  had  fallen  down,  he 
begins  to  get  up.  As  a  result  of  his  conference 
with  Christ,  the  first  two  words  which  open 
his  lips  are  these,  "  Restore,  Give."  "  If  I 
have  taken  anything  from  any  man  by  false 
accusation  I  restore  him  four  fold."  Four  for 
one  indicated  a  very  thoroughgoing  type  of 
repentance.  "  The  half  of  my  goods  I  give 
to  the  poor."  Give  —  it  was  a  new  word  for 
Zacchaeus!  It  almost  stuck  in  his  throat  like 
Macbeth 's  "  Amen."  Buy,  sell,  get,  gain,  hold, 
enjoy  —  these  words  he  could  pronounce!  He 
knew  the  experiences  they  represented.  But 
"  give  "  had  been  a  word  he  could  not  pro- 
nounce. Now,  in  the  hour  when  salvation 
came  to  his  house,  he  begins  to  utter  it.  He 
had  been  dishonest,  and  he  had  been  stingy. 
Now  that  he  has  received  Christ  into  his  heart, 
[123] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

he  will  restore  and  give.  It  was  salvation,  the 
real  article,  which  had  come  to  his  house. 

This  new  life  in  Zacchseus,  this  man  within 
the  man,  seems  to  have  been  born  about  noon 
while  Christ  was  his  guest  at  dinner.  But  it 
grew  rapidly.  It  went  along  adding  cubits  to 
its  stature.  Before  the  sun  went  down  that 
night  it  had  the  strength  of  a  giant.  It  was 
standing  on  its  own  two  feet,  speaking  plainly 
and  doing  the  deeds  of  a  full-grown  Christian. 
When  newness  of  life  rises  rapidly  into  such 
vigor  as  to  restore  fourfold  for  every  dollar 
taken  wrongfully  and  bestow  the  half  of  all 
it  has  in  charity,  you  know  that  it  is  a  plant  of 
the  Lord's  own  planting.  Verily  salvation  had 
come  to  that  house ! 

Jesus  entered  and  passed  through  Jericho, 
and  as  a  result  of  his  visit  salvation  came  to 
one  man  who  lived  from  that  hour  as  a  son 
of  Abraham.  The  same  august  and  benign 
figure  enters  and  passes  through  every  city. 
I  saw  him  here  on  the  streets  of  this  city  yes- 
terday. I  have  seen  him  to-day.  He  goes  about 
looking  into  the  face  of  every  man,  rich  or 
poor.  He  calls  every  man  by  name,  by  that 
new  name  which  indicates  what  the  man  may 
become.  And  every  man  who  hears  that  voice 
and  allows  his  better  nature  to  open  the  door 
will  find  that  salvation  comes  to  his  heart.  He 
will  begin  in  that  hour  to  live  as  a  child  of 
God. 


[124] 


VIII 

THE    HIGHEST    FORM    OF    SACRIFICE 


"By  faith  Abraham,  when  he  was  tried,  offered  up 
Isaac."  —  HEBREWS  xi,  17. 


VIII 
THE    HIGHEST    FORM    OF    SACRIFICE 

YOU  must  read  the  story  which  lies  back  of 
those  words  with  the  eyes  of  your  heart. 
The  eyes  of  your  mind  will  never  reach  the 
deeper  meaning  of  it.  If  any  one  should  under- 
take to  recite  this  passage  in  cold  blood  as 
he  might  read  a  page  of  trigonometry  he  would 
mispronounce  half  the  words.  The  hard  and 
fast  way  of  dealing  with  it  has  made  it  a  libel 
on  the  character  of  God  and  a  nightmare  to  the 
hearts  of  loving  parents.  It  can  only  be  inter- 
preted in  the  light  of  the  affections.  It  must 
be  carried  beyond  the  realm  of  ordinary  in- 
tellectual perception  into  the  sphere  of  sacred 
feeling  to  be  understood. 

Here  was  a  man  with  an  only  son!  He  had 
other  children  as  a  result  of  the  irregular 
unions  prevalent  in  that  rude  world,  but  only 
one  son  of  his  love.  His  hopes  for  the  future 
were  bound  up  with  the  life  of  that  boy.  His 
prospects  for  happiness  as  the  shadows  should 
lengthen  rested  upon  this  child  of  his  heart. 
He  all  but  idolized  him. 

But  he  was  a  thoughtful,  conscientious  father 
—  he  was  accustomed  to  examine  himself  re- 
[  127  ] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

garding  that  sweet  affection.  He  saw  around 
him  other  fathers  who,  in  their  ill-advised  zeal, 
were  taking  their  sons  and  offering  them  in 
sacrifice  to  the  terrible  deities  they  worshiped. 
Gradually  this  question  forced  itself  home  in 
Abraham's  mind,  "  Is  Isaac  mine  or  God's? 
Is  my  love  for  my  child  greater  or  less  than 
my  devotion  to  God?  " 

Every  time  he  saw  the  hand  of  a  father 
reddened  with  the  blood  of  his  child,  every 
time  he  watched  the  smoke  rise  from  some 
rude  altar  where  a  human  body  was  consumed, 
the  question  came,  "  Do  I  love  my  God  in 
that  supreme  way,  or  do  I  love  Isaac  more  ?  ' ' 

You  know  what  followed.  It  is  told  here 
with  simple  directness.  There  came  to  him  one 
of  those  commanding  moral  impulses  which  the 
Hebrew  called  "  the  word  of  the  Lord."  It 
said,  "  Take  now  thine  only  son  Isaac  into 
the  land  of  Moriah  and  offer  him  for  a  burnt 
offering. ' ' 

Terrible  as  it  was,  Abraham  set  out  to  obey. 
He  rose  up  early  in  the  morning  to  nerve  him- 
self for  the  hard  day  ahead.  He  clave  the  wood 
and  saddled  the  ass  not  sparing  himself  any 
detail  of  the  painful  preparation  for  that  fate- 
ful hour.  He  took  Isaac  his  son  and  went  to 
the  place  of  which  God  had  told  him. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  the  boy  looked 
around  with  an  innocent  wonder  and  said, ' '  My 
father,  behold  the  fire  and  the  wood,  but  where 
is  the  lamb?  "  He  thought  his  father  had  for- 
gotten something.  "  Where  is  the  lamb  for  a 
[128] 


The   Highest   Form   of   S  acrifice 

burnt  offering?  "  The  father  replied  (and  you 
can  hear  his  voice  break,  for  the  ground  was 
reeling  under  his  feet),  "  My  son,  God  will 
provide  himself  a  lamb." 

The  altar  was  built  and  the  fire  laid.  Then 
this  man  of  heroic  build  and  sturdy  faith 
reached  for  his  knife  to  slay  his  son.  Just 
there  an  angel  of  the  Lord  stayed  his  hand. 
A  voice  from  heaven  spoke  to  him  of  a  higher 
use  to  be  made  of  that  child's  life.  Abraham 
was  led  to  offer  a  ram  which  he  found  caught 
in  the  bushes  nearby  and  to  take  his  son  back 
to  his  home,  now  to  be  trained  for  a  career  of 
usefulness,  with  a  deeper  sense  of  the  sacred 
significance  of  his  life. 

11  Is  this  boy  mine  or  God's?  "  the  father 
had  been  asking  during  all  those  months  of 
struggle.  His  heart  said  "  Mine."  His  creed 
said  "  God's."  Both  answers  were  true  and 
untrue.  Each  answer  was  true  in  what  it 
affirmed  and  false  in  what  it  denied.  The  boy 
was  Abraham's  child,  his  own  flesh  and  blood, 
but  held  in  trust  —  ultimately  the  boy  belonged 
to  the  author  and  giver  of  life.  The  boy  was 
God's  child,  but  he  could  only  fulfill  his  sonship 
in  the  divine  family  by  becoming  a  good  son 
in  his  earthly  home,  through  the  nurture  and 
affection  of  his  father's  house.  And  in  that 
hour  of  heart-searching  Abraham  entered  into 
a  deeper  understanding  of  human  affection.  He 
realized  the  fuller  spiritual  significance  of  this 
earthly  relationship  as  he  offered  it  in  whole- 
hearted surrender  and  consecration  to  God. 
[129] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

"  By  faith  Abraham  offered  up  Isaac,"  the 
text  says.  The  writer  of  this  eleventh  chapter 
of  Hebrews  viewed  the  transaction  as  complete. 
He  says  nothing  about  the  staying  of  Abra- 
ham's hand  or  the  arresting  of  his  action  by 
a  voice  from  heaven.  "  By  faith  Abraham  of- 
fered up  Isaac."  And  he  is  right.  In  the 
agony  of  that  hour  and  in  the  clearer  vision  to 
which  it  led  the  father  did  make  his  offering 
complete.  He  saw  and  he  accepted  God's 
rights  in  that  child. 

He  was  mercifully  restrained,  by  some 
higher  impulse,  by  some  sober  second  thought 
which  came  to  him  at  that  crucial  moment  as  a 
word  of  the  Lord,  from  actually  slaying  his  son 
in  a  mistaken  spirit  of  worship.  But  in  the 
depths  of  his  own  soul  the  offering  was  carried 
through  to  its  completion.  He  went  down  the 
mountainside  saying  to  himself,  "  This  child 
of  my  love  is  also  the  child  of  God's  love. 
This  good  gift  of  the  Eternal,  on  which  my 
hopes  of  happiness  rest,  must  now  be  conse- 
crated to  the  highest  ends. ' ' 

Here,  then,  we  have  what  I  have  ventured  to 
call  "  the  highest  form  of  sacrifice."  At  its 
best  sacrifice  is  not  an  act  of  destruction  but 
an  act  of  consecration.  If  thy  right  hand  cause 
thee  to  offend,  cut  it  off;  cast  it  from  thee. 
It  is  better  to  enter  into  life  maimed  than 
having  two  hands  to  steal  with  them,  to  forge 
with  them,  or  to  do  any  wrong.  If  thy  right 
foot  cause  thee  to  stumble,  cut  it  off.  It  is 
better  to  be  without  feet  and  sit  down  for  the 
[130] 


The  Highest   Form   of  Sacrifice 

rest  of  one's  days  than  having  two  feet  to 
walk  with  springing  step  in  paths  of  evil.  If 
thy  right  eye  cause  thee  to  offend,  pluck  it  out. 
It  is  better  to  enter  into  life  without  eyes  and 
grope  with  the  blind,  than  having  two  eyes  to 
use  them  for  wrong  ends. 

Better  every  time !  As  between  the  degrada- 
tion of  any  faculty  and  mutilation,  by  the 
destruction  of  it,  the  choice  is  made  instantly. 
Better  a  life  maimed  but  honest  and  clean  than 
a  life  possessed  of  every  faculty  yet  given  over 
to  evil. 

But  this  does  not  exhaust  the  possible  op- 
tions. "  Better  "  indeed,  but  beyond  that 
better  stands  a  further  option  which  is  "  best." 
Degradation  is  the  worst  use  to  be  made  of 
any  faculty  —  mutilation  would  be  much  better. 
But  best  of  all  is  the  consecration  of  faculty  — 
the  right  hand,  the  right  foot,  the  right  eye  — 
to  worthy  use.  In  that  case  the  man  enters 
into  life  not  maimed,  but  whole  and  sound. 

This  was  the  lesson  Abraham  learned  at 
Moriah.  Degradation  of  the  son 's  life,  through 
the  favoritism  and  petting  of  an  indulgent 
father,  until  the  boy's  moral  fiber  might  have 
been  destroyed,  would  have  been  a  tragedy  in- 
deed. Better  the  mutilation  of  the  father's 
affection,  better  the  cutting  off  of  the  boy's 
life  than  the  moral  degradation  of  it.  But 
best  of  all  would  be  the  discovery  of  the  deeper 
meaning  of  human  affection  through  the  con- 
secration of  that  lovely  relationship  to  the 
holiest  ends. 

[131] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

Let  me  apply  that  general  principle  in  a 
practical  way  to  several  interests.  Here  is  a 
man  with  a  sound  physique.  He  is  every  inch 
a  man.  He  rejoices  daily  in  his  splendid  bodily 
vigor.  He  gives  abundant  attention  to  diet  and 
exercise,  to  outdoor  air  and  to  those  recrea- 
tions which  minister  to  health.  But  he  is  a 
conscientious  man,  and  in  some  quiet  hour  he 
is  led  to  ask  himself,  * '  Is  this  abounding  physi- 
cal vigor  mine  or  God's?  Is  it  mine  to  keep 
and  enjoy,  or  is  it  a  thing  to  be  sacrificed  to 
him?" 

What  answer  shall  we  give?  The  worldling 
says, ' '  It  is  all  mine.  These  appetites  are  mine 
to  enjoy."  He  allows  himself  every  conceiv- 
able pleasure  consistent  with  a  prudent  regard 
for  his  own  continued  comfort.  He  uses  his 
Sundays  entirely  for  recreation.  He  holds 
himself  sternly  aloof  from  every  exacting  form 
of  service  which  might  bring  weariness  or  pain. 
He  insists  that  his  bodily  life  is  all  his  own. 

Over  against  him  stands  the  ascetic.  He 
says,  ' '  This  body  is  not  mine  —  it  must  be 
offered  to  God."  He  flogs  his  body  to  keep 
it  under.  He  starves  those  appetites.  He 
wears  his  hair  shirt  to  his  own  discomfort. 
He  allows  the  fire  and  fervor  of  his  moral 
earnestness  to  burn  out  his  physical  efficiency. 

Which  man  is  right?  Neither  one  is  right. 
1 '  Know  ye  not  that  your  body  ' '  —  yours  to 
possess,  yours  to  enjoy,  yours  to  maintain  at 
the  highest  possible  point  of  efficiency  — 
"  know  ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple 
[132] 


The   Highest   Form   of   S  acrific  e 

of  the  Holy  Ghost?  "  It  is  a  field  for  the  mani- 
festation of  the  divine.  Some  measure  of  the 
divine  glory  is  to  shine  in  your  face,  lighted  up 
by  moral  purity  and  intelligent  kindliness. 
Some  measure  of  the  divine  energy  is  to  reach 
forth  in  your  hand  as  you  stretch  it  out  to 
do  good.  Some  measure  of  the  divine  purpose 
is  to  walk  with  willing  feet  in  those  paths  of 
useful  service  you  have  chosen.  Your  body 
is  a  temple  of  God.  Therefore  glorify  God  in 
that  body  which  is  both  yours  and  his.  Neither 
the  degradation  of  the  body  by  careless  self- 
indulgence  nor  the  mutilation  of  it  by  a  false 
asceticism,  but  the  consecration  of  its  every 
function  to  worthy  use,  presents  the  command- 
ing Christian  ideal. 

Here  is  a  man  of  mental  force.  He  is  pos- 
sessed by  a  consuming  ambition  to  know.  In 
his  price-list  knowledge  and  culture  are  more 
precious  than  rubies  —  they  are  not  to  be 
valued  with  much  fine  gold.  He  is  intent  upon 
intellectual  mastery.  He  strives  to  think,  to 
speak  and  to  write  in  such  a  way  as  to  com- 
mand interest,  win  admiration,  influence  the 
action  of  his  fellowmen.  He  says  with  a  loud 
voice  to  all  he  meets,  "  Guard  thy  brain  with 
all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of 
life." 

Now  to  every  such  man  there  comes  this 
word  of  the  Lord.  ' '  Take  now  thy  brain  power 
which  thou  lovest  and  get  thee  into  the  land 
of  Moriah. ' '  He  must  not  hold  his  intelligence 
for  private  enjoyment.  He  must  not  think  of 
[133] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

it  simply  as  a  personal  asset  which  can  be 
turned  into  cash  or  culture  or  fame.  He  must 
stand  on  Mount  Moriah  with  Abraham  and 
make  an  offering  of  his  mental  efficiency. 

He  will  not  be  asked  to  slay  a  single  faculty 
which  God  has  given  him.  He  need  not  harm 
a  hair  on  the  head  of  any  child  of  his  intelli- 
gence. He  must  see  however  that  knowledge 
and  training  are  not  for  pride  of  achievement 
but  for  investment  in  useful  service.  Efficiency 
is  not  given  that  he  may  outrun  all  his  com- 
petitors in  the  race  of  life  but  to  enable  him  to 
have  a  larger  part  in  bringing  up  the  rear 
guard.  And  his  discovery  of  the  real  meaning  of 
the  superior  gift  will  enable  him  to  go  down  the 
side  of  the  mountain  holding  his  ability  as  a 
more  sacred  possession  because  he  has  now  re- 
ceived it  back  from  the  altar  of  consecration. 
He  has  recognized  the  rights  of  God  in  his 
own  powers. 

When  Booker  Washington  addresses  the 
students  at  Tuskegee  he  tells  them  that  the 
word  of  the  Lord  has  come  to  him  with  this 
message,  "  Take  now  thy  gifts  and  get  thee 
into  the  land  of  Moriah."  He  tells  those 
dusky-faced  students  that  they  have  not  come 
to  Tuskegee  to  be  trained  so  that  they  may 
more  successfully  compete  with  their  fellows, 
feathering  their  own  nests  quickly,  making 
them  soft  and  warm.  He  tells  them  that  they 
have  not  come  to  be  trained  that  they  may 
go  back  and  establish  better  homes  and  higher 
types  of  family  life  and  then  look  down  with 
[134] 


The   Highest   Form   of   S acrific e 

careless  contempt  upon  the  untrained  negroes. 
"  You  have  come  here  to  be  trained  that  you 
may  become  more  heavily  and  capably  re- 
sponsible for  the  welfare  of  your  race  in  the 
several  communities  where  you  are  to. live.'* 

This  is  what  they  do  in  the  green  tree  of  a 
black  man's  school.  What  a  stinging  rebuke 
to  all  that  selfishness  of  culture  which  we  find 
here  and  there  in  our  own  more  fortunate  race ! 
It  shows  that  Booker  Washington  himself  has 
been  to  Moriah  and  has  there  learned  the 
deeper  meaning  of  those  higher  privileges  which 
men  hold  dear. 

Here  is  a  man  with  a  sense  of  moral  superi- 
ority. He  is  free  from  those  vices  which 
enslave  weaker  men.  He  has  kept  himself 
clean  from  many  of  the  current  evils.  What 
shall  he  do  with  that  sense  of  moral  advan- 
tage! It  is  as  dear  to  him  as  the  child  of  his 
love. 

He  may  simply  keep  it  and  be  proud  of  it. 
He  may  indeed  take  it  into  the  temple  and 
stand  there  beside  the  Pharisee,  saying, 
"  Thank  God  I  am  not  as  other  men  are, 
thieves  and  liars,  drunkards  and  gamblers.  I 
attend  church  twice  in  the  week.  I  give  bank 
notes  to  all  kinds  of  good  causes. ' '  He  may  do 
just  that  if  he  chooses  —  no  one  can  say  him 
nay.  His  good  name  and  his  freedom  from 
certain  moral  blemishes  are  as  truly  his  own 
as  was  Isaac  the  child  of  Abraham. 

But  what  a  narrow  use  to  make  of  moral 
integrity!  The  Lord  says  to  every  such  man, 
[135] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

"  Get  thee  out  of  this  mood  into  a  mood  that  I 
will  show  thee. ' '  The  upright  man 's  integrity  is 
not  to  be  held  apart  that  it  may  minister  to  his 
moral  pride.  He  has  his  share  of  those  qualities 
in  which  the  nations  of  the  earth  are  blest,  but 
this  high  end  is  not  secured  so  long  as  he 
maintains  that  selfish,  separatist  mood.  He 
must  take  his  moral  worth  up  to  Mount  Moriah 
for  investment  in  a  broader  service.  He  must 
take  upon  his  heart  a  deeper  sense  of  responsi- 
bility for  the  moral  shame  and  defeat  of  those 
other  lives.  He  must  enter  into  a  profounder 
sympathy  with  those  who  strive  and  fail  —  and 
with  those  who  lack  the  necessary  impulse  to 
resolutely  strive.  His  own  virtues  must  be 
touched  to  finer  issues  by  an  unselfish  parti- 
cipation in  the  everlasting  struggle  between 
the  higher  and  lower.  Let  him  enter  heartily 
into  that  fight  which  is  ever  on  and  he  will 
receive  his  moral  nature  back  with  a  new  sense 
of  its  value.  It  will  seem  as  if  a  voice  from 
heaven  had  spoken  to  him,  showing  him  the 
more  excellent  way.  It  will  seem  to  him  as  if 
an  angel's  hand  had  touched  his  heart,  arrest- 
ing him  in  his  mistaken  course.  Though  I 
bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor  and 
though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned  and  have 
not  love  for  my  brother  man  I  am  nothing. 

No  man  is  a  good  man  until  he  faces  the  fact 
that  but  for  certain  advantages  of  birth  and 
training,  certain  restraining  influences  and 
graces,  he,  too,  might  have  been  marked  by 
the  grosser  forms  of  wrongdoing.  No  man  is 
[136] 


The  Highest   Form   of  S acrific e 

a  good  man  until,  in  humble  gratitude  to  God 
and  in  ready  sympathy  for  his  less  fortunate 
fellows,  he  stands  ready  to  utilize  his  'own 
spiritual  attainments  in  aiding  those  moral 
failures  at  the  foot  of  the  class.  When  we  wit- 
ness the  lack  of  this  quality  in  some  respectable 
lives  we  feel  like  saying,  "  Behold  the  wood, 
but  where  is  the  fire  and  the  lamb?  Where  is 
the  warmth  of  sympathy  and  the  spirit  of  un- 
selfish devotion?  "  When  God  introduces  this 
finer  element  into  any  such  life  he  provides  for 
himself  a  lamb. 

Once  more,  here  is  a  life  profoundly  pos- 
sessed by  a  beautiful  affection  for  some  other 
life.  The  very  sweetness  of  human  existence 
springs  from  that  relationship.  The  eye  kin- 
dles, the  cheek  flushes  with  pleasure,  and  the 
heart  leaps  with  joy  when  that  life  appears. 
How  many  of  you  know  all  this,  as  we  say, 
"  by  heart  "!  It  is  the  joy  of  your  life  that 
you  love  and  are  beloved.  "  Out  of  the  affec- 
tions," you  say,  "  come  all  the  mightier  issues 
of  life." 

How  easy  it  is  to  find  satisfaction  in  some 
such  relationship,  chiefly  for  the  delight  it 
brings !  And  how  unworthy  it  becomes  when  it 
is  thus  held  apart  from  the  vaster  interests 
of  human  existence.  We  can  understand  the 
stiff  protest  in  the  Middle  Ages  which  carried 
thousands  of  their  choicest  men  and  women  off 
into  monasteries  and  cloisters.  The  ascetic 
protest,  by  its  very  extravagance,  testified  to 
the  presence  of  a  great  evil.  The  sweet  inti- 
[137] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

macies  between  the  sexes  were  being  held  apart 
for  personal  gratification  only,  and  the  holy 
enthusiasm  of  that  day  arrayed  itself  against 
that  practice.  It  took  those  gracious  affec- 
tions up  into  Mount  Moriah  and  sacrificed  them 
as  a  burnt  offering  unto  the  Lord. 

The  method  was  mistaken  but  the  purpose 
was  sound.  It  is  only  when  love  is  lifted  into 
the  light  and  warmth  of  an  honest  effort  to 
have  the  larger  fellowship  realized  that  it  at- 
tains to  its  highest  estate.  The  love  must  be 
sanctified  through  its  consecration  to  that 
wider  undertaking.  The  man  or  the  woman 
who  enjoys  to  the  full  the  sweetness  of  per- 
sonal affection  should  find  in  his  own  happi- 
ness an  added  reason  for  devoting  his  life  to 
the  promotion  of  the  social  well-being  of  his 
fellows.  He  must  take  his  love  to  Mount 
Moriah  and  learn  there  the  deeper  implica- 
tions of  it  as  it  comes  to  furnish  him  with 
impulse  for  ministering  to  the  heart-hunger  of 
those  other  lives  who  suffer  from  loneliness. 
In  that  open  vision  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
dearest  affections  are  not  to  be  held  apart  as 
exclusively  private  possessions  —  they  must 
become  "  social  energies  "  for  the  hastening 
of  the  brotherhood  of  man. 

This,  then,  I  take  it,  is  the  real  meaning  of 
the  text.  "  By  faith  Abraham  offered  up 
Isaac."  Not  a  drop  of  the  child's  blood  was 
spilled,  yet  he  was  offered.  The  hand  of  the 
father  was  not  stained  by  an  act  of  murder, 
yet  his  offering  was  complete.  It  was  not  an 
[138] 


The  Highest   Form   of  Sacrifice 

offering  of  destruction,  but  an  offering  of  con- 
secration, devoting  the  child's  life  to  higher 
ends.  The  boy  was  to  find  nobler  uses  for  his 
existence  than  ministering  to  the  pride  and 
joy  of  an  Oriental  sheik.  He  must  find  his  own 
place  in  that  vaster  spiritual  movement  which 
should  be  genuinely  Messianic.  Nothing  was 
destroyed,  yet  everything  was  truly  offered. 

Read  the  whole  narrative  in  the  light  of  these 
spiritual  transactions !  In  that  great  hour  the 
highest  prevailed.  The  voice  from  heaven 
spoke  to  the  affectionate  nature  of  the  father. 
He  rose  above  the  current  practice  of  his  time, 
where  human  sacrifice  was  common.  He  rose 
superior  to  the  narrow  selfishness  of  his  own 
intimate  affection.  He  gratefully  accepted  the 
rights  of  God  in  the  child  of  his  love,  and  he 
walked  down  the  mountainside  resolved  to 
consecrate  that  unfolding  life  anew  to  the 
service  of  the  greatest  ideals  he  cherished. 

Bring  up  your  own  choicest  and  dearest 
gifts  to  Mount  Moriah.  Bring  your  sound 
health  —  it  is  not  yours  for  careless,  pleasur- 
able indulgence,  nor  is  it  to  be  neglected  or 
scornfully  flung  away  by  any  mistaken  asceti- 
cism. I  beseech  you  by  the  mercy  of  God  that 
ye  present  your  bodies  a  living,  not  a  half- 
dead,  sacrifice  unto  God,  holy  and  acceptable, 
for  this  is  your  reasonable  service.  Invest  that 
splendid  vigor  in  the  service  of  less  fortunate 
lives. 

Bring  up  your  mental  powers  —  they  are  not 
to  minister  to  your  own  pride  of  achievement, 
[  139  ] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

nor  are  they  to  be  destroyed  by  ill-advised  mor- 
tification. It  is  the  glory  of  any  life  to  rise 
to  its  full  stature  that  it  may  have  the  more 
to  lay  upon  the  altar  of  service.  Let  your  own 
intellectual  efficiency  minister  to  those  un- 
trained, unprivileged  lives. 

Bring  your  moral  superiority,  not  that  you 
may  lord  it  over  the  spiritual  failures  around 
you,  not  that  you  may  fling  it  away  in  Bo- 
hemian carelessness,  but  that  you  may  invest 
it  in  the  service  of  those  who  suffer  moral 
defeat. 

Bring  that  sweet  and  sacred  affection  of  your 
life  and  let  it  become  to  you  an  unfailing  source 
of  motive  and  stimulus  for  the  brightening  of 
those  hungry  and  lonely  lives  which  await  your 
help.  By  this  action  you  will  find  that  high 
quality  of  being  which  you  are  in  danger  of 
losing  —  you  will  find  your  life  by  losing  it  in 
the  service  of  the  living  God. 


[140] 


IX 

BROKEN   PLANS 


"They  assayed  to  go  into  Bithynia  but  the  Spirit 
suffered  them  not.  And  passing  by  Mysia  they  came 
to  Troas."  —  ACTS  xvi,  7,  8. 


IX 
BROKEN  PLANS 

HPHIS  does  not  sound  like  a  promising  text 
•1  — it  sounds  more  like  a  lesson  in  geog- 
raphy. But  there  is  a  world  of  meaning 
wrapped  up  in  those  unfamiliar  names.  Set 
them  in  order!  Dress  them  up  in  their  proper 
associations.  Give  them  a  chance  to  talk  and 
they  will  tell  you  a  story. 

Bithynia,  Mysia,  Troas!  They  are  not  mere 
names.  They  are  not  just  places  on  the  map 
of  that  ancient  and  half -forgotten  world.  They 
are  experiences.  They  are  phases  of  feeling, 
personal,  vital,  significant.  They  are  moods 
through  which  some  of  you  have  been  passing 
during  the  last  twelve  months. 

Here  is  the  story,  briefly  sketched.  Saul  of 
Tarsus,  or  Paul,  as  he  came  to  be  called,  was 
an  Asiatic.  He  was  born  and  reared  on  that 
continent  which  has  shown  itself  preeminently 
the  home  of  religious  faith,  of  moral  vision,  of 
spiritual  insight.  All  the  great  religions  of  the 
world  are  Asiatic  in  their  origin  —  Hinduism, 
Buddhism,  Confucianism,  Shintoism,  Moham- 
medanism, Judaism,  Christianity.  They  were 
all  born  in  Asia,  where  this  man  Paul  was  born. 
[143] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

And  he  had  been  working  successfully  as  an 
apostle  of  the  new  faith  in  Asia.  He  had  been 
preaching  in  the  cities  of  Jerusalem,  Damascus 
and  Antioch.  He  had  planted  church  after 
church  upon  that  continent  which  had  been  so 
fruitful  in  religious  influence.  He  had  aided 
in  the  development  of  flourishing  Christian 
communities  in  many  parts  of  Syria  and  Asia 
Minor. 

He  was  now  purposing  to  go  north  into  the 
beautiful  province  of  Bithynia.  It  lies  on  the 
shores  of  the  Black  Sea.  It  is  just  across  the 
Bosphorus  from  the  site  of  the  modern  city 
of  Constantinople.  But  when  Paul  and  his 
friends  moved  out  in  that  direction  something 
happened.  We  are  not  told  exactly  what  — 
he  does  not  go  into  details.  But  he  believed,  in 
the  light  of  what  occurred  later,  that  it  was 
providential.  "  The  Spirit,"  he  says,  "  suf- 
fered us  not  to  go  into  Bithynia. ' '  They  found 
obstacles  in  the  way  which  were  insurmount- 
able. They  were  compelled  to  give  up  their 
plan  altogether.  "  And  passing  by  Mysia, 
they  came  to  Troas."  There  at  Troas,  on  the 
shore  of  the  ^Egean  Sea,  a  place  forever  mem- 
orable in  the  life  of  this  forceful  man,  came 
the  vision  of  the  man  of  Macedonia  which  car- 
ried him  across  the  ^Egean  into  Europe.  It 
opened  up  the  most  important  work  of  his  life, 
the  planting  of  Christianity  on  the  continent 
of  Europe. 

He  gave  up  his  plan  to  enter  a  province, 
and  God  gave  him  a  continent.  Europe  was 
[144] 


Broken   Plans 

even  then  taking  the  right  of  the  line.  Rome 
ruled  the  world,  and  Borne  was  in  Europe. 
The  two  leading  literatures  of  that  day  were 
the  Greek  and  the  Latin,  and  they  were  both 
European.  The  wealth  of  the  world  was 
rapidly  flowing  to  those  cities  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Mediterranean  because  the  European 
countries  were  taking  the  lead  in  commerce  and 
trade. 

Here  to  the  west  was  that  continent  which 
for  two  thousand  years  should  exercise  a  dom- 
inant influence  upon  the  life  of  the  whole  race, 
such  as  Asia  in  all  that  period  never  ap- 
proached. It  was  worth  while  to  upset  this 
man's  plans  to  enter  Bithynia.  It  was  worth 
while  to  cut  across  the  grain  of  his  own  wish 
and  expectation  in  order  to  set  the  feet  of  a 
mighty  apostle  upon  the  continent  of  Europe. 
His  lips  were  opened  upon  the  ears  of  Europe 
as  he  proclaimed  the  gospel  of  the  Son  of  God. 
He  assayed  to  go  into  lovely  Bithynia,  but  the 
Spirit  suffered  him  not,  and  passing  by  Mysia 
he  came  to  Troas  and  on  to  Europe. 

He  scarcely  knew  what  he  was  saying  when 
he  ascribed  this  change  of  plan  to  the  action 
of  the  divine  spirit.  His  action,  however,  has 
received  abundant  justification  at  the  hands  of 
recorded  history.  Under  the  moral  power  of 
that  gospel  which  he  carried  that  day  across 
the  .ZEgean,  Europe  has  gained  a  clear  ascen- 
dancy over  all  the  other  continents  of  the  world 
in  the  development  and  in  the  expression  of 
Christian  impulse.  The  sublimest  manifesta- 
[145] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

tions  of  Christian  sentiment  we  know  in  Chris- 
tian art  and  in  Christian  architecture,  in  Chris- 
tian music  and  in  Christian  literature,  have 
come,  not  from  Asia,  where  Christianity  was 
born,  but  from  Europe,  where  Paul  and  his 
fellow-missionaries  carried  their  gospel  that 
day  when  they  crossed  from  Troas  to  Mace- 
donia. 

The  great  Christian  cathedrals  —  Cologne  and 
Milan,  St.  Peter's  and  Notre  Dame,  Durham, 
York  and  Canterbury  —  are  all  in  Europe; 
there  is  nothing  to  match  them  in  Asia.  The 
Madonnas  and  Transfigurations,  the  Crucifix- 
ions and  Ascensions,  which  adorn  the  great 
galleries,  were  all  painted  in  Europe.  The 
sublime  oratorios,  Elijah  and  Saint  Paul,  the 
Stabat  Mater  and  the  Messiah,  which  lift  the 
souls  of  men  heavenward,  were  all  composed 
in  Europe.  The  great  Christian  epics  of  Dante 
and  Milton,  the  "  In  Memoriam  "  of  Tenny- 
son and  the  noble  Christian  poems  of  Brown- 
ing were  all  written  on  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope. It  was  the  fate  of  a  soul,  and  that  soul 
the  soul  of  a  continent,  the  soul  of  a  mighty, 
enduring  civilization  which  Paul  bore  with  him 
that  day  when  he  suffered  that  interruption  of 
his  plans.  He  was  turned  by  the  spirit  of  him 
who  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  from  a 
lovely  little  province  into  a  broad  continent  of 
moral  opportunity. 

But  this  story  is  not  mere  ancient  history. 
It  is  not  merely  an  impressive  lesson  in 
geography.  It  is  a  broad,  thick  slice  of  every- 
[146] 


Broken   Plans 

day  experience.  The  movements  of  those  men 
indicated  in  the  text  are  like  a  page  from  the 
life-history  of  men  and  women  who  are  sitting 
in  this  church.  We  have  all  fixed  our  eyes  and 
set  our  hearts  upon  some  lovely  province  only 
to  be  faced  toward  some  more  magnificent  but 
more  difficult  continent  of  spiritual  opportu- 
nity. Let  me  study  with  you  then  the  real 
content  of  this  passage  as  it  bears  upon  our 
personal  interests. 

First  of  all,  many  of  our  best-laid  plans  to 
enter  Bithynia  fail  and  have  to  be  abandoned. 
Bithynia  was  an  open,  lovely,  inviting  region. 
It  has  a  sky  like  that  of  Italy.  Its  climate  is 
equal  to  that  of  California.  It  stands  as  a 
beautiful  symbol  of  a  long  list  of  desirable 
objects. 

We  lay  our  plans  to  possess  them,  for  they 
seem  altogether  good.  We  make  those  plans 
not  in  malice  or  wickedness  but  reverently, 
discreetly,  soberly,  and  in  the  fear  of  God.  We 
are  not  seeking  to  harm  the  interests  of  any  of 
our  fellows  —  we  move  out  possessed  of  the 
heartiest  good  will  in  all  our  plans.  The  en- 
tire purpose  we  cherish  is  as  honest  and  sincere 
as  the  purpose  of  the  apostle  when  he  assayed 
to  go  into  Bithynia  to  preach  his  gospel. 

Eight  there  something  happens!  It  may  be 
any  one  of  a  hundred  things.  We  may  suffer 
the  loss  of  all  our  property  by  fire  or  flood,  by 
shipwreck  or  by  earthquake.  It  may  be  there 
comes  a  shrinkage  in  the  value  of  certain  se- 
curities and  we  find  ourselves  cramped.  There 
[147] 


The  Quest   of  Life 

may  come  a  long  period  of  hindering  and  ex- 
pensive illness,  and  when  we  set  forth  again 
we  find  our  former  vigor  crippled  and  broken. 
There  may  come  the  death  of  some  dear  one 
with  whose  life  all  our  plans  for  happiness 
are  bound  up.  The  disappointment  may  come 
in  any  one  of  a  hundred  ways  —  but  it  comes. 
Our  plans  are  torn  to  pieces  and  scattered  to 
the  four  winds.  "  The  best  laid  schemes  o' 
mice  and  men  gang  aft  a-gley;  and  leave  us 
naught  but  grief  and  pain  for  promised  joy." 
We  assayed  to  go  into  Bithynia,  but  it  could 
not  be  done  —  the  Spirit  suffered  us  not.  If 
the  hand  of  the  Almighty,  heavier  than  the 
Matterhorn,  had  been  set  across  our  path,  the 
hindrance  could  not  have  been  more  complete. 
The  plan  we  made  so  carefully  and  lovingly 
was  wrecked. 

When  boys  and  girls  set  out  early  in  the 
morning  with  sound  health,  the  good  red  blood 
running  and  leaping  and  praising  God  in  their 
veins,  the  road  to  Bithynia  does  not  seem  long. 
Their  minds  are  filled  to  the  brim  with  visions 
and  dreams  of  possible  achievement  ahead. 
They  hope  to  reach  Bithynia  before  night. 
Their  hearts,  all  undisturbed  as  yet  by  the 
memory  of  past  failures,  are  beating  high  with 
joyous  anticipation  of  all  that  the  beautiful 
province  may  be  made  to  yield.  It  looks  like 
a  plain,  straight  course.  There  is  the  place  of 
their  desire,  there  is  Bithynia,  just  this  side 
of  the  marble  domes  and  minarets  of  some 
beautiful  Constantinople. 

[148] 


Broken   Plans 

But  go  to  them  after  twenty,  thirty,  forty 
years  have  passed  and  you  find  them  in  an- 
other mood.  The  road  to  Bithynia  was  longer 
and  harder  than  they  had  supposed.  They  have 
become,  many  of  them,  mellow,  tender,  remi- 
niscent. And  alas,  some  of  them  by  their  disap- 
pointment have  become  sour,  morose  and 
defiant.  It  was  a  steep,  rough  road  they  had 
to  travel.  There  were  obstacles  and  adversaries 
in  every  mile  of  it.  Many  of  them  never 
reached  Bithynia  at  all.  The  place  of  their 
desire  in  material  prosperity,  or  in  genuine 
achievement  in  their  chosen  callings,  or  in 
personal  happiness,  they  never  reached.  It 
is  still  away  yonder  beyond  their  grasp. 
"  Circumstances,"  they  say,  "  suffered  us  not. 
Our  plans  were  broken  and  here  we  are,  hun- 
dreds of  miles  from  Bithynia. "  It  is  a  common 
experience.  The  only  people  who  never  fail 
are  people  who  never  attempt  much. 

It  may  be  that  you  were  shut  out  of  Bithy- 
nia by  your  own  wrongdoing.  Your  plans 
broke  down  and  you  were  compelled  to  admit 
that  it  was  your  own  fault.  This  is  hardest 
of  all.  You  did  not  mean  to  do  it !  You  knew 
better;  your  heart  was  honest,  more  honest 
than  your  deed!  But  the  temptation  came  and 
your  hand  was  reached  out  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion. Your  lips  opened  and  you  uttered  words 
which  were  not  true;  and  the  harm  was  done. 
Your  will  had  gone  lame  and  it  allowed  you  to 
fall  into  actions  which  brought  defeat  to  the 
day  dreams  of  those  earlier  years. 
[149] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

We  understand  all  about  it !  Is  there  a  man 
or  a  woman  past  forty  who  has  not  done  just 
that?  Here  we  are,  miles  and  miles  from  that 
particular  Bithynia  which  once  rose  before  us 
beautiful  and  appealing!  We  can  scarcely 
realize  to-day  how  accessible  it  once  seemed. 
Our  plans  failed  and  we  felt  a  profound  sense 
of  disappointment.  "  Of  all  sad  words  of 
tongue  or  pen,  the  saddest  are  these,  it  might 
have  been."  The  man  who  might  have  been, 
and  is  not  —  here  is  a  source  of  pathos  indeed ! 

In  the  second  place,  it  ought  to  be  remem- 
bered that  there  is  another  plan  in  existence 
all  the  while.  Paul  was  vexed  when  his  plan 
to  enter  Bithynia  went  down  in  defeat.  He  had 
a  temper,  as  every  man  has  who  achieves 
anything.  He  did  not  know  about  this  other 
plan  as  we  know  it  now.  He  had  not  seen  that 
man  of  Macedonia  in  a  vision.  He  did  not  know 
that  the  moral  need,  the  spiritual  hunger  of 
Europe,  was  fairly  beckoning  to  him  across  the 
.^Egean.  He  had  not  seen  his  gospel  becom- 
ing a  mighty  influence  in  that  city  on  the  seven 
hills,  as  he  was  privileged  to  see  it  before  he 
finished  his  course.  He  had  not  seen  Geneva 
and  Wittenberg,  Canterbury  and  Edinburgh, 
there  in  that  new  continent  of  Europe,  becom- 
ing mighty  centers  of  spiritual  power  from 
which  Christian  influence  would  radiate  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth. 

He  may  have  felt  that  there  was  some  good 
reason  for  his  not  being  allowed  to  enter  the 
little  province  —  he  was  a  man  who  walked  by 
[150] 


Broken   PI ans 

faith  and  not  by  sight  —  but  the  reason  was 
hidden.  The  whole  splendid  justification  of  his 
disappointment  that  day  lay  in  the  future.  If 
he  could  have  seen,  he  would  have  rejoiced. 
If  any  man  could  see  that  higher,  vaster  plan 
which  enfolds  us,  taking  up  our  limitations  into 
its  completeness,  he  would  move  out  on  that  new 
line  of  action,  contrary  to  all  his  expectations 
though  it  might  be  with  a  sense  of  serene  joy. 

"  There  's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
rough  hew  them  how  we  will."  God  knew 
what  he  was  doing  when  by  the  force  of  cir- 
cumstances and  by  the  action  of  his  own  Spirit 
on  the  hearts  of  men  he  caused  those  first  fresh 
impulses  of  Christian  zeal  to  move  north  and 
west  rather  than  to  the  south  and  east.  They 
moved  in  the  direction  where  empire  lay.  They 
took  the  route  which  enabled  them  to  enlist 
under  the  banner  of  Christ  the  ruling  forces 
in  human  affairs  in  that  day  and  in  modern 
civilization.  It  was  all  done  in  fulfillment  of 
that  vaster  plan,  too  far-reaching  for  imme- 
diate comprehension  by  those  men  who  saw 
their  little  plans  for  Bithynia  go  down  in  de- 
feat. In  every  hour  of  dark  uncertainty,  re- 
member that!  In  every  such  hour  look  up 
and  say,  "  God  reigns,  let  the  people  rejoice." 

The  story  of  George  MacDonald's  own  life 
has  always  interested  me  more  than  any  of 
his  stories.  He  was  ordained  as  a  Congrega- 
tional minister.  He  was  settled  over  a  small 
parish  with  a  small  salary.  He  lived  simply 
however  and  made  it  suffice.  He  preached  the 
[151] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

truths  of  the  New  Testament  to  the  little  con- 
gregation with  great  frankness  and  vigor.  But 
the  lines  of  theology  were  more  tightly  drawn 
then  than  they  are  to-day,  and  one  can  easily 
understand  how  the  author  of  Robert  Falconer 
might  not  have  been  quite  acceptable  to  a  very 
orthodox  little  congregation  in  old  England. 

One  day  the  deacons  came  to  him  and  told 
him  they  could  not  raise  his  salary  any  longer. 
He  was  simple  as  a  child  in  his  trust  —  he  never 
suspected  their  real  purpose.  "  Very  good," 
he  said,  "  give  me  what  you  can  and  I  will 
earn  something  by  writing  and  by  taking  a  few 
pupils,  and  we  will  manage."  But  his  wife, 
with  a  woman's  quicker  intuition,  came  to  him 
the  next  day  and  said,  "  George,  it  is  not  a 
question  of  salary.  The  people  here  don't  want 
us  because  of  your  teaching. ' '  And  that  ended 
his  first  and  only  regular  pastorate.  His  plan 
to  be  a  settled  Congregational  minister  went 
down  in  defeat.  He  was  too  simple  and  direct 
for  those  particular  deacons. 

He  went  to  the  city  of  Manchester,  support- 
ing himself  and  his  family  by  teaching  and  by 
writing  books.  He  preached  every  Sunday 
somewhere.  He  was  driven  out  into  an  irregu- 
lar but  what  proved  to  be  a  very  much  larger 
ministry.  He  won  a  considerable  following  in 
Manchester.  He  then  went  to  London,  and  first 
in  a  suburb  and  then  down  among  the  work- 
ing people  he  preached  the  gospel  of  the  Son 
of  man.  The  place  where  he  preached  came  to 
be  thronged. 

[152] 


Broken   Plans 

In  a  most  effective  little  sketch  Dr.  William 
Burnett  Wright  has  described  the  service 
as  he  witnessed  it.  The  people  waited 
in  a  hush  of  expectancy.  Then  George  Mac- 
Donald  came  into  the  pulpit,  not  in  cleri- 
cal dress  —  that  day  he  wore  a  gray  suit  and 
a  red  necktie.  He  read  the  Scriptures  as  he 
could  read  them,  the  eleventh  chapter  of  He- 
brews, that  morning.  Then  a  simple  prayer, 
then  a  hymn,  and  then  he  began  to  talk.  * '  We 
have  heard  of  these  men  of  f eyth, ' '  he  said.  ' '  I 
am  not  going  to  tell  you  what  f  eyth  is  —  there 
are  plenty  of  clergymen  to  do  that.  I  am  going 
to  try  to  help  you  to  believe."  And  he  talked 
for  an  hour  and  fifteen  minutes.  When  he 
finished,  the  sigh  of  respiration  which  accom- 
panies a  return  to  ordinary  consciousness  and 
the  deep  sense  of  fellowship  with  a  world  un- 
seen, testified  to  the  fact  that  his  word  was 
with  power.  In  that  suburb  of  London,  then 
among  the  working  people,  then  in  Italy  where 
he  was  driven  by  ill  health,  he  carried  on  his 
work  as  a  minister  at  large.  He  assayed  to  go 
into  Bithynia,  into  some  settled  parish,  but 
the  Spirit  —  aye,  the  Spirit,  though  he  used 
a  group  of  unruly  deacons  —  suffered  him  not. 
He  was  taken  away  from  a  little  parish  and 
sent  forth  upon  a  spiritual  ministry  which  be- 
came continental  in  its  influence. 

You  may  have  the  door  shut  in  your  face 

with  a  slam.    And  it  may  be  done  under  God's 

own  eye  to  turn  your  mind  away  from  that 

petty,  meager  success  into  something  that  has 

[153] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

dimensions  and  contents.  You  can  afford  to 
let  Bithynia  go  if  God  is  granting  you  instead 
a  great  section  of  Europe. 

Here  is  a  young  fellow  who  thinks  he  will 
go  into  business  and  make  a  lot  of  money,  or 
into  law,  or  medicine,  or  engineering.  Either 
line  will  offer  him  an  attractive  career  —  as 
attractive  as  Bithynia.  But  there  is  no  com- 
plaint in  the  world  of  commerce  that  there  are 
not  men  enough  there  to  do  the  business  of 
the  world.  The  lawyers  are  not  passing  resolu- 
tions to  the  effect  that  there  are  not  lawyers 
enough  to  attend  to  the  legal  business  of  the 
world.  When  we  ride  through  the  streets 
and  see  the  doctors'  signs,  we  feel  that  there 
are  physicians  enough  to  take  care  of  the  sick 
people. 

But  there  is  a  calling  where  there  are  not 
enough  of  men  with  energy  and  good  sense, 
with  warm  sympathy  and  genuine  character,  to 
furnish  spiritual  leadership  in  the  work  of  the 
ministry.  From  every  state  of  the  Union  and 
from  every  branch  of  the  church  there  comes 
a  call  for  more  men  of  the  right  sort  to  enter 
the  ministry.  It  may  be  that  something  will 
occur  to  change  your  plan.  If  the  Spirit  should 
not  allow  you  to  enter  any  of  those  other  pro- 
fessions and  should  turn  your  thought  and 
determination  to  the  ministry  of  Christ  you 
would  feel  that  among  all  the  good  things  of 
life  God  had  given  you  the  best.  You  would 
feel  that  you  had  surrendered  a  province,  in 
order  to  possess  a  continent  of  opportunity. 
[154] 


Broken   Plans 

We  may  still  encounter  difficulties,  even  when 
our  plans  are  changed  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
It  was  so  with  Paul.  When  he  was  obedient 
to  his  heavenly  vision,  when  he  was  true  to 
his  best  moments  following  the  gleam  and  not 
the  groove,  he  still  encountered  obstacles.  You 
remember  what  occurred  when  he  crossed  the 
.^Egean  to  help  that  beseeching  man  in  Mace- 
donia. He  did  not  find  any  beseeching  man. 
He  did  not  find  Europe  so  eager  for  the  gospel 
that  it  could  not  sleep  nights.  He  found  a  few 
bigoted  Jews  who  persecuted  him;  some  half- 
crazy  soothsayers  and  spiritualists  who  an- 
noyed him;  and  some  Roman  officials  who  put 
him  in  prison.  He  crossed  the  ^Egean,  his  face 
shining  and  his  heart  leaping  for  joy  because 
of  the  vision  he  had  seen,  but  before  the  chap- 
ter ends  he  was  in  jail.  That  was  what  he 
actually  found  when  his  plan  for  Bithynia  went 
down  in  defeat  and  he  took  a  new  course. 

Nevertheless,  his  vision  was  sound  to  the 
core.  Bead  on!  Read  on  and  you  will  hear 
him  chanting  his  hymn  of  praise  as  he  moves 
ahead  in  his  Christian  work  on  that  continent 
of  Europe.  "  None  of  these  things  move  me, 
neither  count  I  my  life  dear,  that  I  might  finish 
my  course  with  joy  and  the  ministry  which  I 
have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 

Difficulties  —  of  course  there  are  difficulties ! 
Blessed  be  God  that  life  is  not  all  easy-going, 
plain  sailing  under  blue  skies  and  on  quiet 
seas.  What  a  soft,  pulpy,  characterless  lot  of 
people  would  be  turned  out  at  the  end  of  the 
[155] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

voyage  if  that  were  all  we  encountered! 
Sailors  are  developed  by  sailing  the  high  seas 
in  all  weathers,  not  by  paddling  their  canoes 
around  some  millpond.  Men  are  made  by  the 
same  sort  of  discipline. 

11  Then  welcome  each  rebuff  which  bids  thee 
neither  sit  nor  stand,  but  go.*'  It  is  facing 
obstacles  and  mastering  them  that  transforms 
boys  into  men.  It  is  meeting  difficulty  and 
disappointment  bravely  and  patiently  that  lifts 
the  rosy-cheeked  girl  at  last  into  the  nobler 
beauty  of  ripened  womanhood.  Let  those  plans 
for  the  easy,  prosperous,  joyous  career  break 
if  they  must,  provided  only  that  means  the  gain- 
ing of  a  life  ennobled  and  abundant. 

Here  were  regiments  of  fat,  sleek,  well- 
groomed  people  sobbing  and  sighing  over  the 
vanity  of  human  existence  at  the  very  hour 
when  two  celebrated  invalids  on  their  beds  of 
pain  were  singing  their  songs  of  hope  and  high 
resolve  to  the  whole  English-speaking  race. 
Eobert  Louis  Stevenson,  lying  for  months  on 
a  sick-bed  because  he  had  not  strength  to  either 
sit  or  stand,  propped  up  with  pillows  and 
coughing  his  life  out  with  a  hopeless  disease, 
was  nevertheless  writing  in  rugged  story,  in 
splendid  verse  and  in  magnificent  spiritual  ap- 
peal those  words  which  bade  his  fellows  play 
the  man.  He  was  playing  it  himself  and  his 
word  was  with  power. 

And  William  Ernest  Henley,  seeing  his  cher- 
ished plans  go  down  in  hopeless  defeat  before 
the  inroads  of  disease,  was  none  the  less  in  all 
[156] 


Broken   Plans 

weathers  asserting  that  he  was  "  master  of  his 
fate,"  he  was  "  captain  of  his  soul."  The 
world  will  not  forget  his  words  regarding  his 
own  rapidly-approaching  death. 

"  So  be  my  passing, 

My  task  accomplished  and  the  long  day  done, 
My  wages  taken,  and  in  my  heart 
Some  late  lark  singing. 
Let  me  be  gathered  to  the  quiet  west, 
The  sun-down  splendid  and  serene." 

Let  your  cherished  plan  break  if  it  must! 
It  may  be  only  a  signal  from  the  flagship  bid- 
ding you  tack  and  shape  your  course  with 
reference  to  some  vaster,  more  rewarding 
achievement. 

The  one  great  thing  is  to  keep  your  heart 
sensitive  so  that  you  will  feel  the  motions  of 
the  Spirit.  "The  Spirit  suffered  us  not  to  go 
into  Bithynia."  I  would  not  dogmatize,  but 
I  have  a  feeling  that  the  obstacle  was  not  out- 
ward and  visible  but  inward  and  spiritual. 
Paul  intended  to  go  into  that  lovely  little  prov- 
ince, but  when  the  time  came  somehow  he  could 
not  do  it.  He  had  to  change  his  course.  He 
was  compelled  against  his  own  wish  to  turn 
aside  and  tackle  that  vaster  work  of  planting 
the  banner  of  Christ  upon  the  continent  of 
Europe.  He  must  make  his  gospel  a  dominat- 
ing influence  in  the  lives  of  those  mightier 
nations.  He  had  to  do  it  —  his  heart  was  ten- 
der and  sensitive  so  that  he  reacted  under  the 
touch  of  the  divine  spirit  impelling  him  to  seek 
that  greater  opportunity  for  Christian  service. 
[157] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

If  any  young  man  has  set  forth  with  the 
idea  that  success  in  life  means  feathering  his 
own  nest,  making  it  soft  and  warm  and  com- 
fortable, let  him  know  that  his  plan  will  en- 
counter the  stiffest  sort  of  opposition  at  the 
hands  of  the  Spirit.  God  does  not  suffer  any 
man  to  sink  to  that  level  without  a  struggle 
to  lift  him  to  something  better. 

And  if  the  young  man  should  persist  in  that 
course  and  gain  what  he  might  deem  a  gen- 
erous measure  of  success  there  in  his  own  little 
Bithynia  he  would  hear  echoes  of  struggle  and 
achievement  on  higher  levels  which  would  make 
him  feel  that  after  all  he  had  miserably  failed. 

"  In  this  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation  " 
—  thlipsis  was  the  word  Christ  used.  It  means 
pressure,  opposition,  difficulty.  "  But  be  of 
good  cheer,  I  have  overcome."  And  because 
he  has,  we  also  in  his  strength  may  overcome. 
Keep  your  heart  sensitive  to  the  divine  spirit 
by  right  thinking  and  honest  living  so  that  he 
will  be  able  to  turn  you  here  or  there  as  he 
sees  best.  Then  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will 
take  you  forth  upon  a  continent  of  spiritual 
opportunity  where  you  will  see  and  do  and 
become  all  that  belongs  to  the  larger  life  of 
the  children  of  God. 


[158] 


THE   MEASURE    OF   HUMAN 
RESPONSIBILITY 


The  heavens  are  the  Lord's 

But  the  earth  hath  he  given  to  the  children  of  men" 

—  PSALM  cxv,  16. 


THE   MEASUEE   OF   HUMAN 
RESPONSIBILITY 

THE  men  who  wrote  the  proverbs  and  the 
psalms  felt  that  it  was  not  good  for  any 
truth  to  be  alone.  They  took  single  truths  and 
married  them,  sending  them  out  in  pairs.  You 
are  all  familiar  with  the  literary  antithesis  and 
parallelism  which  runs  through  those  two 
books.  "  The  Lord  knoweth  the  way  of  the 
righteous,  but  the  way  of  the  ungodly  shall 
perish."  "  Weeping  may  endure  for  a  night, 
but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  "  A  wise  son 
maketh  a  glad  father,  but  a  foolish  son  is  the 
heaviness  of  his  mother."  "  The  Lord  is  thy 
keeper,  the  Lord  is  thy  shade  upon  thy  right 
hand."  There  are  hundreds  of  them,  thou- 
sands of  them  —  the  larger  part  of  the  reli- 
gious instruction  in  those  two  books  comes  to 
us  paired  off  in  couples. 

It  was  more  than  a  pet  literary  fancy  with 
those  men.  It  was  one  of  the  ways  by  which 
they  secured  poise  and  balance  in  their  teach- 
ing. They  treated  their  sentences  like  boats. 
They  made  them  trim  by  loading  them  on  both 
sides.  They  knew  that  a  single  strong  state- 

[161] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

ment  standing  alone,  with  nothing  heard  from 
the  other  side  of  the  case,  is  often  misleading 
and  dangerous.  The  cranks,  the  bigots,  the 
fanatics  are  made  by  having  some  one  tremen- 
dous truth  aboard.  Not  being  stocked  and 
balanced  with  other  truths,  not  being  well- 
rounded  men,  this  one  big  truth  capsizes  them. 
These  wise  old  writers  formed  the  habit,  there- 
fore, of  linking  together  two  truths,  thus  add- 
ing to  the  literary  charm  of  their  style  and 
securing  for  their  teaching  a  fuller  measure  of 
well-rounded  completeness. 

The  text  is  one  of  those  double  statements. 
' '  The  heavens  are  the  Lord 's,  the  earth  he  has 
given  to  the  children  of  men."  You  see  in- 
stantly the  picture  that  hung  in  the  mind  of 
the  psalmist.  *  *  The  heavens  ' '  —  the  sun,  the 
moon  and  the  stars,  the  walls  and  battlements 
of  clouds,  the  sweep  and  rush  of  the  mighty 
winds,  the  fierce  glare  of  the  lightning  and  the 
gentler  ministries  of  the  rain  and  dew  —  all 
these  "  are  the  Lord's."  They  are  entirely 
under  his  control  —  man  has  never  gotten  his 
hands  on  them.  Man  has  never  soiled  or 
stained  them  by  his  sin.  He  has  never  warped 
or  twisted  them  out  of  their  original  purpose 
by  any  ugly  desire  of  his  own.  He  has  never 
dragged  them  down  to  make  them  common  or 
unclean. 

The  heavens  are  just  as  God  made  them. 

Everything  is  where  he  put  it  —  not  a  hand 

has  touched  it  since.    There  is  no  disorder,  for 

the  heavens  are  the  perfect,  unchanging  ex- 

[162] 


Human   Responsibility 

pression  of  his  thought.  The  sky  you  saw  last 
night  was  the  one  Jesus  saw,  the  one  Abraham 
came  out  of  his  tent  to  see,  the  one  in  which 
the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  the  sons 
of  God  shouted  for  joy.  The  heavens  are  un- 
alterably and  eternally  the  Lord's. 

But  the  earth  is  given  to  the  children  of  men. 
The  old,  familiar  earth,  with  its  man-made 
cities  and  towns,  with  its  paved  streets,  its 
plowed  fields,  its  planted  gardens  —  the  prints 
of  men's  fingers  are  upon  all  these.  You  can 
see  upon  them  at  this  moment  the  grime  and 
sweat  of  men's  hands.  They  bear  the  marks 
of  man's  blunders;  they  share  in  his  littleness; 
they  are  spotted  here  and  there  by  his  sin. 

The  earth  is  given  to  the  children  of  men, 
and  men  are  constantly  changing  it.  They  hew 
down  forests  and  plant  fields.  They  irrigate 
the  desert  and  make  it  blossom  like  a  garden. 
They  build  barns  and  banks  and  stores  and 
then  tear  them  down  and  build  greater.  They 
lay  the  earth  out  in  streets  and  lanes  that  they 
may  travel  through  it  —  when  they  learn  to 
ride  swiftly  they  make  a  racetrack  of  it  for 
their  railroads  and  their  steamships.  The  sun 
in  his  course  looks  down  each  day  and  sees 
something  new  to  remind  him  that  the  earth 
is  given  to  the  children  of  men.  Here  on  this 
common  earth  we  are  perpetually  working  out 
our  thoughts  and  schemes.  While  the  heavens 
remain  unchangeably  the  Lord's,  the  earth  is 
given  over  to  the  children  of  men. 

The  text  suggests  these  two  thoughts,  the 
[163] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

limits  and  the  measure  of  human  responsibility. 
Let  me  speak  of  them  in  order. 

When  we  think  of  what  men  have  done  and 
are  doing  we  are  amazed.  They  build  steel 
roads  and  ride  across  continents  at  the  rate 
of  sixty  miles  an  hour  in  moving  clubhouses. 
They  build  their  steamships  and  plow  their  way 
through  the  ocean  in  all  winds  and  weathers, 
never  deflected  from  their  course  by  the  stress 
of  the  storm.  They  stretch  their  wires  and 
with  a  flash  of  lightning  which  they  have  caught 
and  tamed  they  send  their  messages  around  the 
earth  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  They  talk 
with  one  another  in  far  distant  cities,  hearing 
the  tones  and  inflections  of  the  individual  voice. 
They  build  their  great  bridges,  climbing  over 
the  tops  of  the  loftiest  masts  that  the  course 
of  traffic,  by  land  or  by  sea,  may  suffer  no  in- 
terruption. They  bore  under  the  Hudson 
river  and  run  their  trains  straight  into  the 
heart  of  Manhattan,  landing  their  passengers 
on  Broadway.  In  a  little  more  than  fifty  years 
they  build  a  city  like  Chicago,  with  its  won- 
derful structures  and  its  yet  more  wonderful 
life,  eager,  energetic,  mighty.  They  cut  the 
continents  in  two  at  Panama,  and  join  the 
oceans  that  ships  may  pass  in  a  day  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  When  you  think  of 
what  man  has  done  and  is  doing  you  stand  un- 
covered before  his  splendid  and  rapid  achieve- 
ments. 

But  the  simplest  of  us,  by  a  turn  of  the  face, 
may  look  up  into  a  vast  field  where  the  earth 
[164] 


Human   R  es  ponsibility 

is  a  sand  speck,  where  man  has  never  done 
anything.  The  heavens  are  the  Lord's  —  man 
has  never  laid  a  plank  nor  driven  a  stake  nor 
accomplished  anything  there.  Man  may  think 
hard  and  swell  with  pride;  he  may  bare  his 
arm  and  walk  to  and  fro  with  great  strides, 
but  the  heavens,  by  their  silent  majesty,  in- 
struct him  to  be  humble.  The  larger  things 
are  all  the  Lord's. 

The  universal  forces  are  not  under  our  con- 
trol. The  great  abiding  order  symbolized  by 
the  phrase  the  psalmist  used  is  something  which 
we  must  accept.  We  are  compelled  to  sit  down 
before  it  and  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  We 
cannot  impose  upon  it  our  own  wills.  When 
we  look  down  we  may  be  exalted  with  pride 
over  what  we  have  done  on  this  earth,  but  look- 
ing up  into  the  heavens  which  are  the  Lord's 
we  become  reverent  and  modest. 

This  sense  of  limitation  is  conducive  to  hu- 
mility. Man's  earthly  life  is  in  some  measure 
under  his  control.  He  may  say,  "  I  will  live 
in  New  York,  or  in  Chicago,  or  in  San  Fran- 
cisco,"—  and  he  may  go  and  live  there.  He 
may  say,  "  I  will  live  in  a  frame  house,  or  in 
a  brick  house,  or  in  a  tent,"  -and  he  may 
build  himself  such  habitation.  The  earthly  life 
is  given  to  the  children  of  men.  But  the 
heavens  suggest  a  life  where  we  feel  our  help- 
lessness. At  death  all  men  become  alike  poor 
and  dependent.  We  stand  at  the  open  casket 
and  say,  *  *  We  brought  nothing  into  this  world ; 
and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  nothing  out." 
[165] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

We  have  nothing  to  take  with  us.  We  own 
nothing  there;  we  have  built  nothing  there; 
we  are  entering  a  world  where  everything  is 
the  Lord's.  The  very  thought  of  it  induces 
the  mood  where  men  confess  their  need  of  the 
mercy  and  help  of  God.  We  become  as  little 
children  that  we  may  enter  the  kingdom. 
Whatever  may  have  been  our  earthly  achieve- 
ments, when  we  face  the  heavens  we  feel  our 
dependence  upon  him. 

In  the  matter  of  appropriation  also  we  feel 
the  sense  of  our  limitations.  Children  love  to 
write  their  names  in  the  dust  of  some  country 
road  or  upon  the  sand  at  the  beach.  And 
grown  people  do  the  same.  Men  go  about  writ- 
ing their  names  on  the  earth  — ' '  My  corner 
lot,  My  front  yard,  My  farm !  All  these  broad 
acres  are  mine."  We  fence  in  our  little  pieces 
of  soil,  for  the  earth  is  given  to  the  children 
of  men. 

But  who  owns  that  stretch  of  country  be- 
tween the  four  corners  of  the  Great  Dipper! 
Who  holds  the  title  to  that  strip  of  territory 
half  a  mile  up  in  the  air,  within  ten  minutes' 
walk  if  we  could  walk  that  way?  Your  eye 
sweeps  over  countless  infinite  acres  of  open 
country  there  in  the  blue  —  all  that,  you  say, 
is  the  Lord's.  Men  cannot  fence  it  in  nor 
claim  it  for  private  ends.  Rise  a  few  hundred 
feet  into  the  air  and  human  ownership  is  over. 
Men  may  buy  and  sell,  rent  and  appropriate 
the  earth  if  they  will,  but  the  wider,  roomier 
regions  remain  unalterably  the  Lord's. 
[166] 


Human   Responsibility 

There  is  comfort  in  this  thought.  The  grasp- 
ing hands  of  men  have  taken  possession  of  only 
one  little  spot  in  God's  universe  —  the  larger 
regions  which  constitute  the  enduring  home  of 
the  race  are  his.  Here  on  earth  thousands  of 
people  live  in  narrow,  wretched  alleys,  in 
crowded  tenements,  because  they  can  get  noth- 
ing better.  The  more  prosperous  and  success- 
ful, with  stronger  hands  and  clearer  heads, 
have  taken  up  the  better  portions  of  the  earth. 
The  present  inequalities  of  condition  are  a 
standing  reproach  to  our  Christian  civiliza- 
tion. They  constitute  a  challenge  to  the  Chris- 
tian conscience.  In  view  of  these  inequalities 
which  seem  inevitable  until  we  have  learned 
the  lesson  of  unselfishness,  the  thought  of  the 
text  brings  comfort.  The  present  allotments 
are  not  permanent.  "  We  have  here  no  con- 
tinuing city  —  we  seek  one. ' '  The  distribution 
and  the  apportionments  as  they  are  now  made 
will  not  stand.  The  heavens  are  forever  the 
Lord's,  and  the  man  striving  to  live  a  true  life 
hears  a  voice  from  the  unseen  say,  "  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  I  go  to 
prepare  a  place  for  you.  Whosoever  will  may 
come. ' '  The  soul,  in  its  hour  of  defeat  through 
the  meagerness  of  its  opportunity,  need  not 
despair. 

The  advantages  of  earth  are  controlled  by 
the  children  of  men  —  education  and  travel,  the 
culture  of  good  books,  of  fine  music,  of  rare 
works  of  art.  All  these  belong  to  men;  they 
can  only  be  had  for  money.  The  poor  are 
[167] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

denied  them  because  they  must  be  paid  for 
before  they  can  be  enjoyed.  But  heaven's  ad- 
vantages, the  culture  of  the  spirit  which  comes 
through  prayer,  from  divine  grace,  from  fellow- 
ship with  the  Most  High,  from  the  cherishing 
of  a  noble  aspiration,  from  a  firmly  held  hope 
of  life  eternal  —  these  are  the  Lord's.  No  man 
can  corner  these  advantages  into  a  monopoly 
or  lock  them  up  in  his  store  to  be  sold  for  gain. 
They  are  given  without  money  and  without 
price.  Whosoever  will  may  take  them  freely. 

And  these  are  the  means  of  culture  which 
enter  most  powerfully  into  life.  In  the  build- 
ing of  manhood  and  womanhood  they  count  as 
do  no  other  advantages.  The  daily,  hourly 
culture  of  striving  to  live  a  sincere  Christian 
life,  open  to  any  man  and  every  man,  exceeds 
any  other  single  advantage  to  be  named.  And 
these  advantages  can  be  had  on  the  easiest 
terms.  Ask  and  you  receive.  Seek  and  you 
find.  Knock  and  the  door  opens  into  the  treas- 
ure house  of  the  unseen.  Blessed  be  God  that 
he  has  kept  the  precious  things  in  his  own 
hands,  to  be  given  freely  to  all  who  wait  upon 
him  for  the  renewal  of  their  strength. 

The  sense  of  limitation  is  evident  also  in 
the  matter  of  control.  On  many  fields  of  earth 
man  is  master.  He  lays  out  his  railroads  and 
writes  their  timetables.  He  arranges  his  winter 
trains  and  his  summer  trains.  He  changes  the 
routes  as  he  will.  He  decides  that  the  South- 
ern Pacific  shall  no  longer  run  around  Great 
Salt  Lake  but  straight  across  by  the  Lucin  cut- 
[168] 


Human  Responsibility 

off.  He  decides  that  this  mountain  shall  no 
longer  remain  a  barrier  —  he  tunnels  straight 
through  it.  He  will  not  suffer  the  river  or 
the  bay  to  impede  his  advance  —  he  bridges 
them  or  bores  under  them,  moving  ahead  in  his 
triumphant  course. 

But  who  maps  out  the  paths  the  planets  take 
in  their  courses?  Who  calls  the  sun  to  come 
out  of  his  chamber,  rejoicing  like  a  strong 
man  to  run  a  race?  Who  appoints  the  sta- 
tions where  he  arrives  punctual  to  the  second? 
The  heavens  have  a  map  of  their  own  where 
our  little  distances  are  minute.  They  have  a 
time-card  of  their  own;  worlds,  planets  and 
suns,  in  a  great,  interlocking,  interlacing  sys- 
tem, rolling,  swinging  swifter  than  a  thought, 
without  a  jar  or  a  mistake.  Here  there  is 
nothing  of  human  control  —  here  in  this  per- 
fect harmony  we  find  that  which  is  unchange- 
ably the  Lord's. 

Men  may  calculate  months  in  advance  the 
positions  of  those  swiftly  moving  planets  and 
rely  upon  their  movements  with  absolute  cer- 
tainty. If  you  are  an  astronomer  you  may  know 
where  every  heavenly  body  will  be  five  hun- 
dred years  from  now,  and  if  you  should  wait 
and  keep  the  tryst  not  one  of  them  would  fail 
you.  In  the  last  century  a  total  eclipse  of  the 
sun  was  to  occur  which  could  be  best  observed 
from  a  point  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa.  The 
English  government  fitted  out  an  expedition 
to  make  the  observations.  The  vessel  carried 
the  finest  instruments  the  royal  purse  could 
[169] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

provide  and  the  most  eminent  scientists  to 
make  an  accurate  study  of  the  phenomena  con- 
nected with  the  eclipse.  The  expedition  ar- 
rived at  the  appointed  place;  the  day  of  the 
eclipse  came;  the  hour  came.  The  men  of 
science  were  standing  with  their  instruments 
and  their  chronometers  at  hand.  One  of  them 
remarked  to  another,  "  Unless  we  have  made 
some  mistake  in  our  calculations  the  eclipse 
should  begin  at  once."  Instantly  the  dark  edge 
of  the  moon  was  seen  starting  across  the  face 
of  the  sun!  Punctual  to  a  second!  The  hea- 
venly bodies  are  the  Lord's,  and  God  is  never 
late!  Let  man  with  his  late  trains  and  his 
broken  appointments  confess  the  uncertainty 
of  all  things  earthly.  The  heavens  move  on  in 
unbroken  harmony  picturing  the  methods  of 
the  Almighty. 

The  same  principle  holds  in  the  spiritual 
world.  Here  God  has  made  his  own  appoint- 
ments. The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard 
—  the  orbit  of  a  planet  is  not  more  sure.  The 
way  of  righteousness  is  a  way  of  peace  and 
joy  —  the  course  of  the  sun  is  not  more  certain. 
The  Lord  has  decreed  that  men  should  be  saved 
by  repentance  and  faith,  by  turning  away  from 
evil  and  by  maintaining  a  certain  personal  rela- 
tion to  himself.  He  has  put  it  down  in  black 
and  white  in  the  Bible,  in  the  moral  conscious- 
ness of  men,  and  in  the  accumulated  experiences 
of  the  ages. 

Where  men  undertake  to  write  new  time- 
cards  for  the  spiritual  world,  where  they  under- 
[170] 


Human   Responsibility 

take  to  climb  up  some  other  way,  they  make 
themselves  ridiculous.  They  might  as  well 
undertake  to  have  the  sun  rise  an  hour  earlier 
to-morrow  morning.  They  might  as  well 
attempt  to  postpone  the  full  moon  for  a  week 
next  May  to  meet  the  needs  of  some  garden 
party.  When  we  seek  to  alter  the  laws  of  moral 
advance  or  to  set  the  spiritual  universe  run- 
ning on  new  lines,  we  forget  that  the  heavens 
are  the  Lord's.  Man  does  not  make,  nor  con- 
trol, this  upper  world.  Its  laws  and  conditions 
are  established  of  old.  Men  are  only  saved  as 
they  conform  and  adjust  themselves  to  the 
spiritual  order  where  God  is  supreme. 

But  a  large  measure  of  responsibility  is  given 
to  the  children  of  men.  The  earth  is  the  sphere 
of  our  activity  and  of  our  obligation.  Grace  is 
given,  not  primarily  to  take  man  to  heaven 
but  to  enable  him  to  order  his  course  in  wisdom 
and  conscience  here  upon  the  ground.  We  are 
not  to  long  for  golden  streets  —  it  is  our  part 
to  make  our  own  streets  clean  and  safe.  We 
are  not  to  fix  our  eyes  upon  pearly  gates  — 
we  are  to  build  the  gates  of  these  earthly  cities 
high  and  strong,  shutting  out  the  vice  and  crime 
which  now  disfigures.  We  are  to  live  by  the 
power  of  an  endless  life,  but  live  here,  grap- 
pling with  these  everyday  problems  and  duties. 
The  earth  is  given  to  the  children  of  men  as 
the  field  where  they  are  to  express  those  prin- 
ciples which  come  from  an  eternal  world. 

Religion  is  a  high  and  a  holy  interest.  It 
is  fine  enough  to  dress  the  children  of  the  king 

[171] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

to  appear  in  his  courts  on  the  Sabbath.  It 
is  fine  enough  to  clothe  them  to  appear  be- 
fore his  throne  in  the  world  to  come.  But 
true  religion  has  a  plain  and  homely  quality 
—  it  will  wash  on  Monday  and  wear  well 
throughout  the  week.  It  concerns  itself  with 
this  common  earth.  It  undertakes  to  so  possess 
men  and  women  by  a  new  spirit  that  they  will 
show  themselves  good  husbands  and  good 
wives,  honest  employers  and  faithful  employ- 
ees, kindly  neighbors  and  upright  citizens.  If 
the  life  of  earth  is  made  true,  pure  and  kind 
the  final  entrance  into  that  heaven  which  is 
the  Lord's  may  well  be  left  to  him. 

The  truth  in  all  this  seems  plain,  but  it  has 
oftentimes  been  overlooked.  The  leaders  of 
the  church  have  become  excited  and  angry  in 
seeking  to  settle  difficult  speculative  problems 
which  belong  in  the  heavens.  The  precise  rela- 
tions of  the  three  persons  of  the  trinity;  the 
particular  method  by  which  Christ  the  Son 
made  atonement  to  God  the  Father  for  our 
sins;  the  exact  measure  of  the  human  and  the 
divine  entering  into  the  inspiration  of  the  holy 
Scriptures ;  the  final  outcome  of  the  moral  pro- 
cesses at  work  in  the  judgment  which  God  will 
visit  upon  those  who  fail  to  do  his  will  —  these 
and  many  other  hard  questions  have  at  times 
occupied  a  great  part  of  the  attention  of  the 
Church. 

But  all  these  things  are  too  high  for  us  — 
we  cannot  attain  unto  them.  They  belong  in 
the  heavens  which  are  the  Lord's.  I  fancy 
[172] 


Human   Responsibility 

that  he  cares  little  about  the  technical  correct- 
ness of  our  opinions  touching  matters  alto- 
gether beyond  our  present  understanding. 
When  we  have  done  our  best  our  views  scarcely 
amount  to  a  drop  in  the  bucket.  We  cannot, 
in  the  nature  of  the  case,  get  the  infinite  ocean 
of  being  into  our  half -pint  bottles  of  theological 
definition.  It  matters  little  whether  we  say 
six  or  six  and  a  half  when  we  are  talking  of 
these  mighty  questions  —  one  stops  as  far 
short  of  infinity  as  the  other.  Many  of  the 
abstract  speculative  questions  of  metaphysics 
may  safely  be  left  in  the  heavens,  which  are 
the  Lord's. 

But  the  questions  of  earth  are  given  to  us. 
How  shall  we  induce  men  to  buy  more  bread 
and  clothing  and  books  and  less  rum?  How 
shall  we  deal  with  the  evils  of  impurity  which 
smut  and  stain  many  a  fine  soul  ?  How  shall  we 
cast  out  the  devils  which  infest  this  modern  life  ? 
How  shall  we  deal  with  poverty,  not  simply  in 
alleviation,  but  in  seeking  to  make  people  intel- 
ligent, industrious,  thrifty,  as  far  as  may  be, 
self-sustaining?  How  shall  we  induce  men 
who  have  capital  to  invest  and  men  who  have 
muscle  to  sell,  to  be  fair  and  just,  to  be  coop- 
erative and  brotherly?  How  shall  we  train 
boys  and  girls  to  grow  up  into  Christian  life 
as  the  only  normal  mode  of  living?  How  shall 
we  bring  comfort  and  cheer  to  the  weary  thou- 
sands who  walk  in  the  shadow  of  grief,  who 
are  crushed  by  the  weary  grind,  who  stagger 
under  heavy  loads,  who  struggle  against  odds? 
[173] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

How  shall  we  make  real  the  sense  of  sympathy 
to  those  broken  hearts  who  have  been  disap- 
pointed in  the  dearest  aspirations  of  their 
lives  ? 

Here  are  the  questions  we  must  face  and 
answer !  We  can  get  at  them  —  they  are  given 
to  the  children  of  men.  You  met  them  yester- 
day ;  you  will  meet  them  to-morrow.  You  know 
every  wrinkle  in  their  old  faces.  Here  is  where 
the  religion  of  the  Lord  God  is  to  show  itself 
mighty  and  helpful.  We  can  afford  to  detach 
our  minds  from  some  of  those  distant  problems 
in  order  to  fasten  them  more  firmly  upon  these 
questions  of  earth.  Here  is  the  immediate  field 
of  our  responsibility. 

But  to  get  the  complete  thought  of  the 
psalmist  we  need  to  hold  those  two  statements 
in  a  finer  synthesis.  "  The  heavens  are  the 
Lord's  ' '  —  and  where  are  the  heavens ?  Above 
the  earth,  to  the  right  of  the  earth,  to  the  left 
of  the  earth,  and  underneath  the  earth.  The 
world  we  know  lies  immersed,  enfolded  and 
enswathed  in  the  heavens.  They  watch  over  it 
from  every  corner  of  the  sky.  With  all  their 
suns  and  stars  they  look  down  upon  it  with 
eyes  that  never  sleep.  They  send  upon  it  their 
ministries  of  light  and  warmth  and  beauty. 
Each  heavenly  body,  with  an  arm  like  God, 
holds  the  earth  to  its  course  by  the  grip  of 
gravitation.  The  heavens  are  the  Lord's,  but 
they  take  the  earth  into  their  keeping  and  give 
themselves  to  it  in  all  their  rich  helpfulness. 

Man's  life  on  earth  is  surrounded,  enfolded 
[174] 


Human   Responsibility 

and  enswathed  by  another  life.  "  The  Eter- 
nal is  thy  refuge  and  underneath  are  the  ever- 
lasting arms."  We  rest  under  the  shadow  of 
his  wing.  We  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being  in  him.  Our  light  and  warmth  came  from 
him.  The  power  which  holds  us  true  is  "  the 
Power,  not  ourselves,  that  makes  for  righteous- 
ness." The  earth  enters  upon  its  springtime, 
upon  its  new  period  of  promise,  by  obedience  to 
the  mandates  of  the  enfolding  heavens.  Man 
rises  to  his  springtime  and  enters  upon  a  season 
of  nobler  fruitage  through  his  cooperation  with 
the  unfolding  love  and  power  of  the  Heavenly 
Father.  The  earth  cannot  live  without  the 
help  of  the  sky.  Man  cannot  live  until  he 
dwells  in  harmonious  relations  with  the  life  of 
God.  Live,  then,  with  your  feet  upon  the  solid 
earth,  but  live  also  with  your  head  and  your 
heart  among  the  stars. 

You  may  have  seen  a  plant  trying  to  grow 
under  a  shed.  It  had  soil  enough  —  it  had 
eight  thousand  perpendicular  miles  of  earth 
directly  under  it.  It  may  be  that  some  man 
watered  it  daily  and  pulled  away  the  hindering 
weeds.  Still  it  did  not  grow.  It  needed  the 
open  sky,  the  sunshine,  the  dew  and  the  rain. 
It  had  the  earth  and  all  that  man  could  do  for 
it,  but  it  needed  the  heavens,  which  are  the 
Lord's,  that  it  might  come  to  its  full  planthood 
and  utter  itself  in  a  splendid  flower. 

You  cannot  grow  under  some  man-made  shed 
which  shuts  you  away  from  the  heavens. 
Plant  your  life  deep  in  the  earth,  if  you  will. 
[175] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

Let  education  and  travel,  art  and  music,  books 
and  companionships  do  all  that  they  can. 
Strike  your  roots  deep  down  into  all  those 
earthly  elements  which  furnish  material  for 
the  abundant  life.  But  when  earth's  advan- 
tages have  done  their  best  the  half  has  not 
been  told.  See  that  no  shed  cuts  you  off  from 
the  open  vision  of  the  Lord,  from  a  personal 
relationship  to  those  spiritual  verities  which 
are  eternal.  See  that  no  doubt  or  indifference 
robs  you  of  the  sunshine  of  his  favor,  of  the 
dew  of  his  grace,  of  the  showers  of  blessing 
which  wash  the  life  clean  and  keep  it  growing. 
Claim  for  your  life  all  of  earth's  advantages 
which  are  within  your  reach,  for  these  are  given 
to  the  children  of  men;  but  claim  also  the  help 
which  comes  from  out  the  heaven,  which  is  the 
Lord's. 

"  Thou  life  within  my  life,  than  self  more  near 

Thou  veiled  presence,  infinitely  clear. 
From  all  illusive  shows  of  sense  I  flee, 
To  find  my  center  and  my  rest  in  Thee. 

"Take  part  with  me  against  those  doubts  which  rise 

And  seek  to  throne  Thee  in  far  distant  skies; 
Take  part  with  me  against  the  self  that  dares 
Assume  the  burden  of  these  sins  and  cares." 

The  heavens  are  the  Lord's  and  the  heavens 
are  here.  The  heavens  are  the  Lord's,  and 
they  stand  ready,  with  all  their  powers,  to 
minister  to  this  life  of  earth. 


[176] 


XI 

THE    HIGH    OFFICE    OF    SYMPATHY 


"  When  Moses  held  up  his  hand,  Israel  prevailed; 
and  when  he  let  down  his  hand  Amalek  prevailed.  But 
Moses'  hands  were  heavy  .  .  .  and  Aaron  and  Hur 
stayed  up  his  hands/'  —  EXODUS  xvn,  11,  12. 


XI 

THE    HIGH    OFFICE    OF    SYMPATHY 

IT  is  not  altogether  easy  to  separate  the  fine 
threads  of  poetic  insight  from  the  coarser 
threads  of  prose  fact  in  this  narrative.     The 
story  is  a  coat  of  many  colors  and  the  weave  is 
curious. 

The  situation  was  like  this:  the  Israelites 
were  journeying  through  the  wilderness  toward 
the  land  of  promise.  They  had  secured  an 
abundant  water-supply  among  the  rocks  of 
Horeb  for  themselves  and  their  thirsty  flocks. 
The  Amalekites,  who  were  the  nomads  of  that 
region,  came  out  to  attack  them.  Joshua  drew 
up  the  Israelites  in  battle  array,  while  Moses, 
never  a  fighter,  and  now  an  old  man  past 
eighty,  climbed  to  the  rocky  eminence  overlook- 
ing the  field.  He  wanted  to  stand  where  he 
could  see  the  fighting  Israelites ;  he  wanted  to 
stand  where  the  fighting  Israelites  could  see 
him.  And  he  stood  there  all  day  long  in  the 
attitude  of  ^prayer,  stretching  out  his  arms 
toward  heaven  as  if  he  would  draw  down  help 
from  above.  The  very  sight  of  their  devoted 
leader,  interceding  on  their  behalf,  gave  the 
Israelites  fresh  courage.  They  fought  all  the 
[179] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

harder, ' '  and  it  came  to  pass, ' '  the  author  says, 
11  when  Moses  held  up  his  hands,  Israel 
prevailed!  " 

But  his  hands  grew  heavy;  the  strain  of 
maintaining  unbrokenly  that  attitude  of  sup- 
plication was  severe.  The  high  task  of  holding 
himself  up  to  speak  face  to  face  with  the  Al- 
mighty, touching  that  struggle  in  the  plain 
below,  depleted  his  strength.  Now  and  then  he 
relaxed  his  effort  and  lowered  his  hands. 

The  battle  was  so  close,  the  opposing  forces 
so  evenly  matched,  that  the  sight  of  their  leader 
at  prayer  on  their  behalf  or  the  lack  of  it  was 
enough  to  turn  the  scale.  "  When  Moses  held 
up  his  hands,  Israel  prevailed;  when  he  let 
them  down,  Amalek  prevailed."  Then  Aaron 
and  Hur  came  to  his  support;  they  stayed 
up  his  hands,  giving  him  and  giving  Israel 
that  visible  assurance  of  their  own  sympathy. 
By  this  reinforcement  Moses'  hands  were 
steadied,  his  attitude  was  secure  until  the  go- 
ing down  of  the  sun.  And  with  that  assistance 
to  their  courage,  the  Israelites  discomfited 
Amalek  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  and  won  a 
glorious  victory. 

Let  me  study  with  you  the  implications  of 
that  scene.  First  of  all,  the  very  sight  of  those 
three  men  on  the  rock  was  an  open  pledge  of 
human  sympathy.  It  put  every  Israelite  on  his 
mettle.  How  much  our  leader  cares !  His  very 
soul  is  bound  up  in  this  fight  we  are  making  for 
the  ideas  and  principles  of  Israel  as  against 
the  lower  methods  of  life  represented  by 
[180] 


The   High    O ffic e   of   Sympathy 

Amalek!  He  stands  there  hour  after  hour 
making  his  steady,  silent  appeal  to  high  heaven 
on  our  behalf.  He  will  stand  there  until  the 
sun  goes  down,  to  see  us  win,  and  win  we  must ! 

What  a  picture  of  spiritual  reality  is  here 
painted  by  this  poetic  soul!  On  some  higher 
level  of  spiritual  achievement,  won  by  hard 
climbing,  there  stands  a  soul  knit  up  with  your 
own  soul  by  genuine  sympathy.  He  stands 
there,  as  you  know,  making  intercession  on 
your  behalf.  He  is  waiting  to  see  you  win. 
And  the  very  sight  of  his  outstretched  hands 
and  the  thought  of  his  uplifted  heart  gives  you 
fresh  courage  and  resolve.  His  readiness  to 
cooperate  with  you  in  the  fight  you  are  making 
in  the  dust  of  the  plain  below  gives  every  man 
of  you  the  strength  of  two  —  sometimes  the 
strength  of  ten.  When  he  lifts  up  his  hands 
toward  the  source  of  help  you  fight  hard  and 
prevail ;  when  he  lets  them  down  you  are  liable 
to  falter  and  fail. 

How  splendid  is  the  office  of  human  sym- 
pathy, genuinely  felt  and  nobly  expressed!  It 
can  be  seen  in  many  a  hard  fight  where  weary 
men  and  women  are  bruised  and  blood-stained. 
When  the  sympathy  of  true  friends  lifts  itself 
up  into  devoted  action,  the  forces  of  righteous- 
ness prevail;  when  it  droops,  the  lower  ele- 
ments of  human  nature,  doubt,  despair,  bitter- 
ness, have  their  chance  for  victory.  Three  men 
on  a  rock,  somewhere,  indicating  that  your  fight 
is  their  fight  also,  as  they  carry  you  in  their 
hearts,  will  suffice  to  turn  the  scale.  You  will 
[181] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

be  moved  to  summon  all  your  reserves  into 
action  and  fight  it  through  to  a  finish. 

And  what  a  loss  is  involved  in  the  absence 
of  that  sympathy!  The  hardest  battles  do  not 
come  where  men  are  marching  in  solid  ranks 
with  flags  flying,  drums  beating,  and  shouts  of 
coming  victory  bursting  from  ten  thousand 
throats.  The  hardest  battles  are  fought  where 
some  soul  faces  its  own  doubts  and  defeats, 
its  own  sorrows  or  its  own  sins,  and  struggles 
with  them  alone. 

Here  is  a  growing  boy,  seeing  the  mystery 
of  life  through  a  glass  darkly.  He  is  tor- 
mented by  the  memory  of  mistakes  already 
made  and  fearful  of  worse  things  yet  to  come, 
but  unwilling  or  unable  to  bring  himself  to  con- 
fide in  one  who  might  bring  relief  —  he  is  fight- 
ing it  out  alone.  Here  is  an  unhappy  woman, 
tossing  to  and  fro  on  her  bed  through  some 
long,  lonely  night,  hearing  the  hours  and  half- 
hours  strike,  but  unsustained  by  the  sense  of 
any  real  companionship  in  her  trouble  —  she 
is  treading  the  wine-press  alone!  Here  is  a 
man  plunging  out  into  the  night,  unable  to 
sit  still,  going  on  and  on,  he  knows  not  where, 
his  mind  grinding  away  on  some  terrible  crisis 
which  has  come  to  him  —  he,  too,  is  carrying 
this  bitter  cup,  wondering  whether  he  shall 
drink  it  or  fling  it  away.  Here  are  a  father  and 
mother  staggering  under  some  cruel  sorrow, 
each  trying  to  be  brave  for  the  sake  of  the 
other  and  each  one  going  ever  and  anon  to 
fight  the  battle  alone!  You  know  all  about  it 
[182] 


The   High   O ffic e   of   Sympathy 

—  many  of  you  do.  In  that  hour  of  loneliness 
and  defeat  how  much  you  need  that  expression 
of  sympathy  which  comes  from  the  sight  of 
someone  lifting  up  his  hands  and  his  heart 
toward  Heaven  for  you. 

It  is  a  universal  need.  We  find  it  in  the  Son 
of  Man.  He  knew  the  pain  of  loneliness  in 
that  moral  crisis  in  his  own  career.  He  reached 
out  hungrily  for  human  sympathy.  *  *  Could  ye 
not  watch  with  me  one  hour?  "  It  was  not 
the  whine  of  some  weak  soul.  It  was  the  word 
of  One  who  could  say,  "  I  lay  down  my  life 
for  the  sheep.  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down 
and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again."  He  was 
no  weakling.  But  he  was  in  Gethsemane.  He 
had  seen  the  hollowness  of  that  popular  enthu- 
siasm which  one  day  shouted  "  Hosanna  "  and 
the  next  day  turned  away  in  thoughtless  in- 
difference or  helped  swell  the  cry  against  him. 
He  saw  his  own  life  ennobled  by  its  record  of 
unwearied  service  and  radiant  with  benign 
purpose,  destined  to  be  nailed  upon  a  cross 
between  two  thieves.  It  was  a  terrible  cup 
to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  one  who  came  to 
heal  the  broken-hearted  and  to  set  at  liberty 
them  that  are  bruised.  He  went  into  the  gar- 
den to  pray  and  he  said  to  the  three  men, 
Peter,  James  and  John,  *  *  Watch  with  me ! 
Watch  with  me  one  hour."  He  wanted  to  feel 
them  near,  awake  and  sympathetic.  But  when 
he  looked  upon  them  presently,  they  were  all 
asleep. 

Many  a  life  goes  down  in  defeat  for  the  lack 
[183] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

of  a  friendly  eye,  awake  and  open,  for  the  lack 
of  a  warm  heart  ready  with  its  love,  for  the 
lack  of  a  strong  hand  stretched  out  to  help. 
The  pity  of  it  is  that  any  life  might  have  all 
three.  The  growing  boy,  anxious  and  troubled, 
would  better  confide  in  his  father  or  in  the 
old  family  physician  or  in  some  broad-minded, 
big-hearted  friend  —  there  is  always  someone 
who  would  watch  with  him  all  the  hours  needed 
and  thank  God  for  the  chance.  The  woman  in 
trouble  would  better  open  her  heart  somewhere 
—  the  impulse  which  craves  sympathy  is  of 
God.  The  business  man  breaking  his  heart  and 
his  health  over  some  financial  problem  because 
he  feels  unwilling  to  cloud  the  sky  of  the 
woman  he  loves,  would  better  take  her  into 
his  confidence.  He  will  find  her  stronger  and 
truer  than  he  ever  dreamed.  Her  happiness 
does  not  consist  in  the  abundance  of  things  he 
possesses  but  in  him;  and  she  would  rejoice 
to  share  his  burden.  And  if  somewhere  in 
sight  there  was  another  life  maintaining  that 
attitude  of  sympathy  shown  by  those  three  men, 
Moses,  Aaron  and  Hur,  on  that  jutting  point 
of  rock,  it  would  change  defeat  into  victory. 

The  careless  observer  might  have  seen  on 
the  plains  of  Horeb  only  a  petty  squabble  be- 
tween some  nomads  of  the  desert.  But  in 
reality  it  was  the  everlasting  struggle  between 
the  higher  and  the  lower.  It  was  that  nation 
to  whom  God  had  said,  "  I  will  bless  thee  and 
thou  shalt  be  a  blessing  and  in  thee  shall  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blest,"  pitted 
[184] 


The   High   O ffic e   of   Sympathy 

against  a  tribe  which  never  wrote  a  book  nor 
produced  a  prophet  nor  did  anything  to  pre- 
pare the  way  of  the  Lord.  It  was  the  race 
which  caught  the  first  gleams  of  monotheism, 
fighting  against  idolators.  It  was  the  race 
which  carried  in  its  ark  of  the  Covenant  and 
in  the  bosom  of  its  own  life  the  moral  prin- 
ciples embodied  in  the  ten  commandments, 
fighting  against  a  race  of  thieves,  liars  and 
libertines.  It  was  the  cause  of  righteousness 
which  was  being  fought  out  that  day,  and  to 
the  men  who  were  battling  for  the  right, 
however  dimly  they  understood  the  mighty 
significance  of  it  all,  it  meant  everything  to 
have  those  three  leaders  stand  on  the  rock  until 
the  sun  went  down  pledging  their  interest  and 
their  sympathy. 

In  one  of  the  dramatic  stories  of  the  Old 
Testament  we  find  a  strong  man  under  a  juni- 
per tree.  He  was  called  "  Elijah,  the  Tish- 
bite,"  and  his  nature  was  as  rugged  as  his 
name.  But  there  he  was,  stretched  out  full 
length,  sobbing  as  if  his  heart  would  break. 
Yesterday  he  faced  four  hundred  priests  of 
Baal  and  won  his  victory  over  them  as  the 
champion  of  pure  worship  and  clean  living. 
To-day  you  hear  this  whine  from  his  lips,  * '  Oh, 
Lord,  take  away  my  life!  I  only  am  left  to 
worship  Jehovah.'* 

But  a  messenger  of  the  Lord  came  to  this 

discouraged  man  and  fed  him.    He  told  him  to 

lie  down  and  get  a  good  night's  sleep.    In  the 

freshness  of  the  following  morning  at  the  be- 

[185] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

ginning  of  a  new  day,  he  assured  the  tired 
prophet  that  there  were  seven  thousand  people 
in  Israel  who  had  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal. 
He  then  told  Elijah  to  stand  up  and  do  his  duty 
before  God  and  man. 

All  this  was  reassuring,  but  what  were  those 
seven  thousand  people  doing  that  day  when 
Elijah  stood  on  Mount  Carmel  alone,  fighting 
the  battle  of  righteousness?  "  The  priests  of 
Baal  are  four  hundred  and  fifty  men  and  I  only 
remain  a  prophet  of  Jehovah. ' '  He  had  around 
him  a  company  of  people  halting  between  two 
opinions.  They  were  trying  to  carry  water  on 
both  shoulders.  They  were  not  of  the  seven 
thousand  who  had  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal ! 
But  why  were  not  some  of  those  seven  thousand 
reserves  on  hand!  If  there  had  been  a  dozen 
of  them,  or  even  three  of  them,  like  Moses, 
Aaron  and  Hur,  on  some  point  of  rocks,  hold- 
ing aloft  their  sympathetic  interest  in  the 
struggle,  Elijah  might  not  have  been  under  the 
juniper  tree. 

Many  a  man  fighting  hard  for  a  principle  in 
politics  or  standing  strongly  for  finer  methods 
in  commercial  life  goes  down  in  defeat  for  the 
lack  of  just  such  openly  and  loyally  expressed 
sympathy.  The  minister  of  Christ  seeking  out 
some  man  who  is  being  worsted  in  the  moral 
struggle  often  sees  on  that  face  a  look  of  grati- 
tude and,  alas,  of  surprise.  The  man  will  say 
with  a  tremor  in  his  voice,  ' '  I  did  not  suppose 
anybody  cared  whether  I  went  to  the  devil  or 
not."  The  young  fellow  fighting  with  all  his 
[186] 


The  High   Office   of   Sympathy 

might  to  keep  his  life  clean  in  the  face  of 
temptation,  struggling  to  maintain  his  honesty 
where  he  sees  all  kinds  of  successful  stealing 
in  operation,  striving  to  keep  his  Christian 
faith  in  the  presence  of  intellectual  difficulties 
which  seem  to  be  tearing  it  to  pieces,  needs 
tremendously  the  presence  and  help  of  sym- 
pathetic friends.  If  there  were  three  friends  in 
sight,  holding  up  their  hands  as  a  visible  ex- 
pression of  their  interest,  he  would  be  nerved 
for  the  struggle  and  aided  toward  victory. 
And  there  are  enough  of  us  to  go  around  — 
there  are  enough  to  furnish  three  such  friends 
for  every  fight  that  is  on. 

In  the  second  place,  the  presence  of  those 
three  men  in  the  attitude  of  prayer  became  a 
pledge  of  divine  help.  When  Joshua  buckled 
on  his  armor  and  started  for  the  field  Moses 
said,  "  I  will  stand  at  the  top  of  the  hill  with 
the  rod  of  God  in  my  hand."  You  recall  the 
history  of  that  famous  rod.  It  was  the  shep- 
herd's crook,  which  he  had  carried  when  he 
kept  his  flocks  in  the  land  of  Midian.  He  car- 
ried it  with  him  in  a  loftier  consecration  when 
he  went  to  bring  the  children  of  Israel  out  of 
the  land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of  bondage. 
When  he  stretched  it  forth  at  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  it  became  the  harbinger  of  those  awful 
plagues,  those  terrible  judgments  which  fell 
upon  the  oppressors  of  the  people.  He  bore 
it  with  him  through  the  wilderness,  using  it  to 
draw  water  from  the  rocks  for  the  thirsty 
Israelites.  It  had  become  'invested  with  a 
[187] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

mystic  significance  in  the  eyes  of  that  ancient 
people.  It  was  clothed  with  an  august  and 
mysterious  power.  It  was  like  a  lightning-rod 
piercing  the  clouds  of  heaven  and  becoming 
the  conductor  of  forces  unseen  as  they  were 
safely  and  usefully  brought  to  earth.  "  I  will 
go  aloft  with  the  rod  of  God  in  my  hand.'* 
And  all  day  long  the  figure  of  Moses  with  the 
rod  of  power,  standing  out  against  the  Syrian 
sky,  making  his  appeal  to  heaven,  brought  to 
the  people  fighting  on  the  plain  below  a  firm 
assurance  of  divine  help. 

It  indicates  a  service  which  any  devout  soul 
can  render.  It  indicates  a  service  which  many 
can  render  who  are  not  themselves  in  the  thick 
of  the  fight.  The  three  men  on  the  rock  that 
day  were  old  men,  each  one  of  them  past 
eighty.  They  were  not  able  to  fight  with  the 
AmaleMtes  in  the  plain  below.  But  the  sun 
need  never  go  down  on  the  day  of  spiritual 
effectiveness.  Dr.  Osier  said  some  time  ago 
that  a  man  past  sixty  was  no  longer  of  much 
account.  Dr.  Osier  himself  has  passed  his 
sixtieth  birthday  since  then  —  perhaps  he  has 
revised  his  statement;  we  have  not  heard  of 
his  taking  himself  off  the  field  of  action.  He 
has  probably  moved  the  limit  up,  as  we  all  do 
when  the  years  come  and  go.  But  there  is  no 
dead  line  in  spiritual  achievement,  because  the 
spiritual  life  is  a  life  eternal.  The  figures  of 
those  three  old  men  on  the  jutting  rock,  their 
white  hair  glistening  in  the  sun  of  that  clear 
sky,  kindled  the  enthusiasm  of  the  younger  men 
[188] 


The   High    O  ffic  e    of   S  ymp  a  thy 

fighting  the  Amalekites  in  the  plain  below. 
Their  attitude  of  prayer  became  a  constant 
pledge  of  divine  help  to  the  men  on  the  firing 
line. 

You  may  not  be  called  into  the  heat  and 
shock  of  the  stern  battle  below,  but  you  can 
help  mightily  by  your  faithful  intercession. 
Many  a  man  stands  to  his  guns  and  fights  it 
through  by  the  aid  of  a  little  woman  scarcely 
five  feet  high.  Wendell  Phillips  was  fighting 
the  battle  for  the  abolition  of  human  slavery 
when  that  cause  was  most  unpopular.  He  stood 
up  and  uttered  his  message,  and  it  was  a  word 
with  the  bark  on.  The  rabble  answered  back 
with  stale  eggs  and  brickbats  and  with  curses, 
fouler  and  harder  than  either  the  eggs  or  the 
bricks.  He  was  a  man  of  culture ;  a  graduate 
of  Harvard,  an  aristocrat  in  all  his  social  affilia- 
tions. It  was  no  easy  task  for  him  to  face  all 
this.  His  wife  was  an  invalid  lying  at  home  in 
a  darkened  room  for  months  and  months,  while 
the  struggle  went  on.  He  would  go  to  her  room 
to  kiss  her  good-night  before  he  went  out  to 
address  one  of  those  troubled  meetings,  and  she 
would  look  up  into  his  face  and  say,  "  Now, 
Wendell,  don't  shilly-shally."  When  the  man 
went  out  with  those  words  in  his  ears  and  with 
that  woman's  kiss  on  his  cheek,  he  did  not 
shilly-shally.  He  put  it  straight  until  the  con- 
science of  the  nation  was  stung  into  action. 

In  every  house  there  should  be  at  least  one 
who  can  go  aloft  with  the  rod  of  God.  Your 
husband  may  be  compelled  to  go  forth  and  fight 
[189] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

the  devil  of  greed  and  of  graft,  of  trickery 
and  of  oppression  while  you  remain  sheltered. 
Your  son  may  be  called  to  face  such  enemies  of 
sobriety,  purity  and  honesty  as  you  have  never 
seen  in  all  your  life.  Your  daughter  may  feel 
the  pull  of  a  society  where  the  current  mood 
is  one  of  showy  ostentation  and  empty  frivolity 
such  as  you  never  felt  in  your  own  simpler, 
saner  girlhood.  In  all  the  shapes  and  forms  of 
evil  the  Amalekites  come  out  against  the  higher 
life  to  work  upon  it  their  wretched  will.  It  is 
for  you  to  say  in  those  beautiful  and  effective 
ways  which  the  true  woman  knows,  "  I  will  go 
aloft  with  the  rod  of  God  in  my  hand;  and 
when  I  lift  it  up,  my  loved  ones  will  prevail. ' ' 

When  I  see  the  situation  where  thousands 
of  men  are  fighting  it  out  six  days  in  the  week ; 
when  I  walk  through  certain  streets  in  this  city 
and  think  that  untaught,  untried  boys  will  walk 
there  too ;  when  I  see  young  women  with  their 
wages  so  near  the  danger  line  that  unless  they 
are  splendidly  fortified  with  moral  stamina 
they  will  be  tempted,  having  sold  their  days  to 
greed,  to  sell  their  nights  to  shame;  when  I 
meet  Satan  in  all  his  forms  carrying  it  off  with 
a  high  hand,  and  an  alluring  grin,  I  am  moved 
to  utter  a  great  indictment  against  those  women 
who  are  content  to  go  their  way,  thoughtless, 
prayerless,  godless.  In  the  name  of  Heaven, 
cannot  they  realize  how  sorely  they  are  needed ! 
There  are  wives  and  mothers  who  find  time  to 
play  bridge  for  hours  together  every  week,  yet 
never  from  month's  end  to  month's  end  do 
[190] 


The   High    O ffice    of   Sympathy 

they  devote  one  complete  hour  to  the  high  task 
of  teaching  their  children  the  truths  of  religion 
or  of  lifting  up  the  spiritual  needs  of  their 
families  in  prayer  to  God. 

It  need  not  be  on  any  jutting  point  of  rocks 
—  it  were  better  that  the  woman  enter  her 
closet  and  shut  the  door.  There  in  secret  let 
her  pray  to  the  Father,  who  seeth  in  secret; 
and  because  of  the  reality,  the  persistence,  the 
loving  fidelity  of  her  prayer,  the  Father  who 
seeth  in  secret  will  reward  her  openly  in  the 
spiritual  victories  of  those  she  loves.  If  you 
never  did  it  before  in  your  life,  do  it  to-day! 
Take  the  rod  of  God  in  your  hand  and  make 
intercession  on  behalf  of  those  who  struggle 
with  evil.  They  are  liable  to  fail  for  lack  of 
your  help.  In  some  strange  way  they  will  know 
that  you  are  there  and  understand.  They  will 
be  nerved  by  your  sympathetic  interest  and  by 
that  fervent  prayer  which  availeth  much,  to 
make  that  final  effort  which  will  bring  them  off 
conquerors. 

Great  decisive  battles  are  to  be  fought  by 
this  generation  of  boys  and  girls,  now  coming 
upon  the  field.  Strongly  fortified  positions  of 
evil  are  to  be  taken  and  the  banner  of  Christ 
made  to  float  there.  Mighty  fortresses  of  greed 
and  shame  are  to  be  thrown  down  and  the 
chariots  of  the  Lord  are  to  drive  over  them  in 
triumph.  The  form  of  the  battle  will  vary  — 
now  it  will  be  personal,  now  social;  here  in- 
dustrial, there  political.  But  whatever  form  it 
takes,  the  battle  will  not  be  fought  entirely  upon 
[191] 


The   Quest   of   Life       % 

the  ground.  The  work  of  those  who  stand 
yonder,  stretching  the  rod  of  God  heavenward 
will  be  clothed  with  splendid  significance.  The 
brute  strength  for  the  struggle  may  be  formed 
from  the  dust,  but  the  living  soul  of  the  move- 
ment for  betterment  will  be  breathed  from  on 
high.  Joshua,  the  fighter,  caught  his  vision 
of  the  divine  in  the  figure  of  an  armed  man, 
standing  outside  the  walls  of  Jericho.  Moses 
saw  the  finger  of  God  in  the  writing  of  those 
moral  principles  which  were  to  rule  the  ages. 
Both  types  of  men  were  needed  for  the  ulti- 
mate victory  —  Joshua,  taking  the  field  with 
his  sword  in  his  hand;  and  Moses,  lifting  his 
rod  of  power  heavenward  that  the  cause  of 
righteousness  might  prevail. 

You  cannot  rush  out  and  secure  that  high 
quality  of  efficient  sympathy  or  that  power  of 
successful  intercession  at  a  moment's  notice 
when  an  emergency  arises.  Moses  had  been 
carrying  that  mystic  rod  which  brought  down 
blessings  from  above  for  many  years.  It 
reached  back  to  the  days  of  his  youth.  He  had 
borne  it  as  a  young  man,  keeping  the  flocks  of 
Jethro.  He  had  borne  it  in  the  stress  of  those 
terrible  days  when  the  plagues  of  God  fell 
upon  the  oppressors  of  the  people  along  the 
.banks  of  the  Nile.  He  had  stretched  it  out  in 
the  darkness  of  that  awful  night  when  the 
Israelites  trembled  on  the  shores  of  the  Red 
Sea,  hearing  the  approach  of  Pharaoh's  char- 
iots and  horsemen.  He  had  used  it  in  those 
days  when  he  refreshed  and  instructed  the 
[  192  ] 


The   High    O ffic e    of   Sympathy 

murmuring  people  in  the  desert.  Now,  in- 
vested as  it  was  with  the  precious  memories 
and  associations  which  sprang  from  a  long  life 
of  abiding  trust,  he  held  it  aloft  with  the  high 
confidence  of  a  ripened  saint. 

If  your  sympathy  and  your  prayer  are  to 
turn  the  scale  in  some  hard  hour  for  those 
who  struggle  with  the  enemies  of  righteousness 
in  the  plain  below,  you,  too,  must  prepare  your- 
self against  that  day.  You  must  live  the  life 
of  abiding  trust  and  faithful  devotion  through 
all  these  intervening  years.  The  spiritual 
efficiency  of  the  righteous  soul  able  in  the  face 
of  terrible  odds  to  avail  much  is  bought  with 
a  great  price. 

Let  me  say  this  final  word  —  in  every  man's 
soul  this  entire  scene  is  reenacted  every  day 
in  the  year.  In  every  heart  Israel  and  Amalek, 
the  higher  and  the  lower,  fight  hand  to  hand 
for  the  mastery.  In  every  heart  there  is  an 
eminence  where  the  best  that  is  in  you  may 
go  aloft  and  stretch  out  toward  heaven  its 
beseeching  faith  begotten  of  experience.  While 
your  personal  will  is  struggling  on  the  lower 
plane  of  physical  inclination,  of  the  mad  desire 
for  gain,  and  of  the  wish  for  selfish  ease,  there 
will  come  to  you  from  that  upper  level  of  your 
nature  supplies  of  strength,  drawn  from  a 
source,  unseen  and  inexhaustible !  The  coming 
of  these  mighty  allies  will  be  like  the  tread  of 
marching  men.  They  will  bring  victory  and 
you,  too,  will  come  off  more  than  conqueror 
through  him  who  loves  us. 
[1931 


XII 
GREATER   THINGS   AHEAD 


"  Thou  shall  see  greater  things  than  these."  —  JOHN 
i,  50. 

"And  greater  works  than  these  shall  he  do,  because 
I  go  to  my  Father."  —  JOHN  xiv,  12. 

"  Ye  shall  be  perfect  as  your  Heavenly  Father  is 
perfect."  (R.  V.)  —  MATTHEW  v,  48. 


XII 
GEEATEE   THINGS   AHEAD 

military  command  "  Eyes  Front!  " 
has  its  counterpart  in  the  work  of  the 
prophet.  When  we  study  the  Hebrew  prophets 
we  find  some  of  them  looking  back.  They  have 
their  eyes  on  the  past.  They  recognize  the 
moral  failure  of  Israel,  and  their  hearts  are 
heavy.  When  their  message  comes  it  is  half 
sob  and  half  censure.  They  are  the  prophets 
of  Judgment. 

But  there  is  another  group  of  prophets  where 
the  men  have  their  eyes  to  the  front ;  they  are 
looking  ahead.  They  are  not  unmindful  of  the 
moral  tragedies  wrought  by  wrongdoing,  but 
they  have  caught  a  vision.  They  see  another 
kingdom  which  has  foundations,  whose  builder 
and  maker  is  God.  They  see  a  greater  king, 
a  coming  Messiah,  afar  off  but  faced  toward 
them.  They  see  light  shining  in  a  dark  place 
and  destined  to  illumine  the  whole  earth.  And 
when  these  men  with  eyes  front  speak,  their 
utterance  is  a  song  of  cheer  —  they  are  the 
prophets  of  hope. 

It  is  profoundly  significant  that  when  Christ, 
the  greatest  of  the  prophets,  came,  he  took  his 
[197] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

stand  definitely  with  the  prophets  of  hope.  He 
struck  the  keynote  of  his  whole  ministry  in  that 
opening  address  at  Nazareth.  "  The  spirit  of 
the  Lord  is  upon  me  because  he  hath  anointed 
me  to  preach  good  tidings  to  the  poor.  He 
hath  sent  me  to  bind  up  the  broken  hearted; 
to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives  and  to 
set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised. ' ' 

In  the  book  of  Isaiah,  where  he  found  this 
text  for  his  first  address,  the  rest  of  the  verse 
reads  — ' '  and  to  proclaim  the  day  of  vengeance 
of  our  God."  He  omitted  that  clause.  It  did 
not  match  his  mood.  He  had  not  come  to 
condemn  the  world,  but  to  save  the  world.  He 
saw  the  sin  of  the  race.  He  knew  what  was  in 
man  and  needed  not  that  any  should  tell  him. 
But  he  saw  also  the  sovereign  moral  interest 
of  the  Father  in  eve'ry  soul  he  had  created. 
He  felt  the  renewing  power  of  divine  grace,  and 
in  the  face  of  everything  he  boldly  took  his 
stand  with  the  prophets  of  hope. 

Now  in  the  light  of  that  attitude  which  was 
fundamental  with  our  Lord,  I  wish  to  indicate 
three  lines  of  expectation,  which  we  are  war- 
ranted in  cherishing: 

In  the  first  place,  "  Ye  shall  see  greater 
things  than  these."  He  said  that  early  in  his 
ministry.  He  said  it  to  a  man  who  had  just 
enrolled  himself  as  a  disciple.  This  man,  stand- 
ing in  the  presence  of  that  august  manifesta- 
tion of  life,  cried  out,  "  Rabbi,  thou  art  the 
King  of  Israel,  thou  art  the  Son  of  God!  ' 
Jesus  answered,  "  Thou  shalt  see  greater 
[198] 


Greater   Things  Ahead 

things  than  these.  Thou  shalt  see  heaven 
open."  He  was  to  see  a  whole  upper  realm  of 
spiritual  forces  clear  and  plain,  the  angels  of 
God  coming  and  going  on  their  ceaseless  er- 
rands of  spiritual  recovery  and  moral  enrich- 
ment. He  was  to  see  that  spiritual  order  which 
towers  above  the  common  grind  as  the  Matter- 
horn  lifts  itself  above  the  valley  of  the  Rhone. 
He  was  to  see  heaven  open,  operative,  efficient. 

Are  not  these  words  being  fulfilled  in  our 
ears!  May  it  not  be  that  we  are  even  now  on 
the  outskirts  of  a  great  revival  of  religion? 
This  revival  may  not  come  with  observation 
and  headlines.  It  may  not  come  arrayed  in 
the  conventional  robes  of  ecclesiastical  proce- 
dure. It  may  not  gather  people  into  monster 
aggregation  meetings,  or  set  them  to  signing 
cards  and  putting  up  their  hands.  All  this  is 
secondary. 

We  are  witnessing  a  strong  reaction  against 
materialism  as  a  philosophy  of  life.  The  best 
philosophy  and  the  best  science  of  our  day  are 
insisting  that  ultimate  reality  is  not  matter, 
but  sentient  mind  or  spirit.  The  wide  currency 
and  immense  influence  of  Bergson  and  Euchen 
among  scholars  testify  to  this  tendency  in  all 
serious  thinking  on  fundamental  problems. 

We  are  witnessing  a  widespread  insistence 
upon  the  immediate  utility  of  spiritual  forces 
for  increased  health,  for  personal  happiness, 
and  for  general  well-being.  It  is  an  insistence 
which  here  and  there  becomes  wild  and  reck- 
less. When  a  man  has  been  stooping  and  sud- 
[199] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

denly  straightens  up,  he  is  apt  to  lean  over 
backward  for  a  moment  or  two  before  assum- 
ing his  normal  position. 

We  have  seen  the  amazing  circulation  of 
such  books  as  those  of  Ealph  Waldo  Trine  — 
books  scarcely  worthy  of  serious  consideration 
either  from  a  philosophic  or  a  literary  point 
of  view,  but  of  immense  significance  as  symp- 
toms bearing  witness  to  the  fact  that  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  people  in  this  land  are  athirst 
for  the  living  God.  They  are  not  satisfied  with 
the  gospel  of  material  comfort.  They  want  to 
be  "In  tune  with  the  Infinite.'* 

We  are  witnessing  the  resolute  demand  for 
economic  justice,  for  a  more  democratic  spirit 
in  the  control  of  industry,  for  a  more  equitable 
distribution  of  the  results  of  the  toil  of  brain 
and  of  hand.  The  insistence  upon  a  safeguard- 
ing of  the  moral  values  at  stake  in  the  whole 
work  of  production  has  never  in  the  history 
of  the  world  been  so  intelligent  and  determined. 

We  are  witnessing  a  tremendous  impulse 
toward  civic  righteousness  which  has  enlisted  a 
large  section  of  the  best  brain  and  heart  of 
the  land  in  seeking  to  make  the  powers  that  be 
"  ordained  of  God." 

These  are  all  tokens  of  spiritual  quickening. 
I  am  aware  that  to  some  minds  they  might  not 
seem  like  orthodox  signs  of  religious  awaken- 
ing. They  are  not  sufficiently  ecclesiastical. 
They  do  not  pronounce  the  party  shibboleth 
with  just  the  right  accent.  But  the  purpose  of 
God  is  not  bound.  It  never  has  been  bound  by 
[200] 


Greater   Things  Ahead 

usage  and  ceremony.  It  has  been  his  way  to 
constantly  surprise  his  chosen  people  by  send- 
ing some  better  thing  than  they  had  hoped. 
The  Hebrews  were  sound  in  their  prediction 
of  a  coming  Messiah,  but  they  were  so  inaccu- 
rate in  many  of  the  details  that  most  of  them  did 
not  know  him  when  he  came.  What  they  expected 
never  came  —  something  better  came.  The  early 
Christians  looked  for  the  speedy  and  visible 
return  of  Christ  to  earth.  They  were  right  in 
expecting  that  the  risen  Christ  would  make 
himself  at  once  a  more  effective  factor  in 
human  affairs,  but  they  were  mistaken  as  to  the 
method.  What  they  looked  for  did  not  come  — 
something  better  came.  In  the  wide  diffusion 
of  his  spirit,  in  the  more  complete  enthrone- 
ment of  his  ideals,  in  the  steady  exaltation  of 
those  principles  for  which  he  stood,  he  has  come 
again,  and  is  coming,  and  will  continue  to  come 
until  all  shall  know  him,  from  the  least  to  the 
greatest. 

The  quickening  of  interest  in  spiritual  forces 
in  our  day  has  come  by  methods  of  God's  own 
choosing.  "  By  men  of  strange  lips  and  with 
another  tongue  will  I  speak  unto  my  people, 
saith  the  Lord."  The  modern  pulpit  is  a 
movable  pulpit.  Men  are  setting  it  up  in  all 
sorts  of  unconventional  quarters.  The  office 
of  the  preacher  has  been  widely  extended  to 
make  room  for  all  the  men  who  have  a  message 
to  deliver.  From  the  pages  of  the  serious  maga- 
zine and  the  weekly  paper,  from  the  dinner 
table  at  great  banquets,  from  many  unexpected 
[201] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

and  unordained  sources,  the  word  of  the  Lord 
rings  out. 

In  the  colleges  and  universities  the  number 
of  aspiring  young  men  who  have  some  sort  of 
public  service  in  mind  was  never  so  great.  In 
the  world  of  popular  estimate  where  applause 
is  given  or  withheld  according  to  the  judgment 
of  the  many,  it  was  never  so  plain  that  if  a 
man  would  be  great,  he  must  serve.  The  great- 
est of  all  is  not  the  man  who  can  exercise  lord- 
ship or  attain  affluence,  but  the  man  who  can 
best  serve  the  common  interest.  In  all  of  these 
directions  we  find  substantial  signs  of  spiritual 
quickening. 

Ye  shall  see  heaven  open,  operative,  efficient. 
The  divine  spirit  is  functioning  widely  and 
powerfully  in  this  intricate  modern  life.  I 
should  despair  utterly  if  I  did  not  believe  with 
all  my  heart  that  the  promise  quoted  is  in  pro- 
cess of  fulfillment.  It  is  our  final  dependence. 
The  better  order  of  life  is  not  to  be  formed 
solely  from  the  materials  of  this  common  earth. 
It  cannot  be  ushered  in  by  merely  making  the 
selfish  efforts  of  men  more  skillful  and  more 
resolute.  It  is  to  descend  out  of  heaven  from 
God.  It  is  to  come  bringing  with  it  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  higher  world.  And  it  is  because 
Christian  men  believe  in  God,  and  in  the  real- 
ization of  the  will  of  God,  and  in  the  conse- 
quent coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  that  they 
are  able  to  stand  in  the  very  thick  of  this 
modern  struggle  and  speak  with  the  accent  of 
spiritual  authority.  They  are  not  alone  —  the 
[202] 


Greater   Things  Ahead 

Father  is  with  them.  It  is  by  the  more  effective 
utilization  of  those  unseen  forces  symbolized 
by  the  "  open  heaven  "  that  the  renewal  of 
personal  character  and  the  regeneration  of 
organized  society  are  to  be  achieved. 

In  the  second  place,  "  Greater  works  than 
these  shall  ye  do,  because  I  go  to  the  Father. ' ' 
This  is  strong  meat !  It  has  been  a  stumbling- 
block  to  many.  "  Greater  works  than  these  ' 
—  none  of  the  disciples  ever  walked  across  the 
Sea  of  Galilee  on  the  water;  none  of  the  dis- 
ciples ever  changed  water  into  wine.  But 
Jesus  did  not  say  greater  wonders,  he  said 
* '  greater  works  ' '  —  greater  in  their  scope 
and  variety,  greater  in  their  continuity  and 
wide  utility.  By  the  power  of  his  grace  and 
under  the  guidance  of  his  spirit  we  are  actually 
doing  the  greater  works. 

To  establish  in  the  heart  of  Christendom  a 
sense  of  obligation  toward  the  blind,  the  sick, 
and  all  the  defective  of  earth,  resulting  in  such 
wise,  humane  and  generous  treatment  of  their 
ills  as  was  never  dreamed  of  in  the  time  of 
Christ,  is  a  greater  work  than  to  open  the  eyes 
of  one  blind  man  at  the  Pool  of  Siloam.  To 
awaken  and  develop  the  sentiment  of  humanity 
which  leads  to  the  organization  and  main- 
tenance of  hospitals  for  the  poor  in  all  our 
cities,  to  the  sending  out  of  District  Nurses 
into  all  the  streets  and  alleys  whither  he  him- 
self would  come,  and  to  the  founding  of  Medi- 
cal Missions  in  all  the  lands  of  earth,  is  a 
greater  work  than  to  lift  one  lame  man  into 
[203] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

sound  health  at  the  gate  of  the  temple  called 
Beautiful.  And  to  put  upon  the  conscience  of 
Christendom  a  new  sense  of  responsibility  for 
all  these  countless  helpless  lives  bound  with 
severe  toil,  and  make  the  resolute  demand  that 
they  shall  have  a  more  equitable  share  of  the 
comforts  they  help  to  create,  is  a  greater  work 
than  to  feed  five  thousand  hungry  men  once 
at  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 

When  Jacob  Eiis,  a  Christian  man,  aroused 
other  Christian  men  and  women  to  take  hold 
of  the  lower  East  Side  of  New  York,  and  by 
replacing  unsanitary  tenements  with  decent 
dwellings  and  parks  and  playgrounds  changed 
the  whole  face  of  the  situation  for  thousands 
of  struggling  people,  it  was  not  a  greater  won- 
der, but  it  was  a  greater  work  than  it  would 
have  been  for  Jacob  Riis  to  have  walked  across 
the  Hudson  River  on  the  water.  When  John 
G.  Paton  went  to  the  New  Hebrides  and  changed 
the  lives  of  those  filthy  cannibals  into  lives  of 
Christian  men,  clothed,  educated,  and  aspiring, 
by  preaching  and  living  the  Christian  Gospel, 
it  was  not  so  great  a  wonder  as  it  would  have 
been  for  him  to  have  changed  a  bucket  of  water 
into  a  bucket  of  wine,  but  it  was  a  greater 
work.  "  Greater  works  than  these  shall  ye  do  ' 
—  in  the  scope  and  variety,  in  the  continuity 
and  wide  utility  of  Christian  achievement  we 
are  witnessing  the  fulfillment  of  this  majestic 
promise. 

And  the  end  is  not  yet  —  we  have  just  begun ! 
We  are  just  scratching  the  surface  where  the 
[204] 


Greater   Things  Ahead 

full  possibilities  of  these  spiritual  forces  lie 
hidden.  We  are  just  starting  on  that  type  of 
Christian  service  which  says,  boldly,  "  The 
field  is  the  world."  The  field  is  the  world  ex- 
tensively, for  it  includes  within  the  scope  of 
our  moral  interest  Japan  and  China,  India 
and  Africa.  The  field  is  the  world  intensively, 
for  it  includes  the  mill  and  the  mine,  the  fac- 
tory and  the  farm.  The  redemption  and  trans- 
figuration of  this  big,  blooming,  buzzing  con- 
fusion, called  "  the  world,"  is  the  huge  task  to 
which  religion  is  set. 

The  great  field  where  men  buy  and  sell, 
where  they  teach  and  learn,  where  they  marry 
and  rear  families,  where  they  organize  states 
and  enact  laws,  where  they  also  pray  and 
adore  —  this  whole  system  of  activity  called 
"  the  world  "  is  the  field  where  the  seed  of 
religion  is  to  be  put  down  under  the  surface 
and  made  to  grow.  It  is  the  only  field  large 
enough  to  yield  that  harvest  which  shall  fill 
the  garners  of  the  Lord  and  satisfy  the  travail 
of  his  soul.  The  moral  recovery  and  the  spirit- 
ual transformation  of  that  great,  wide  area  of 
human  interest  is  the  greater  work  to  which 
the  men  of  our  generation  are  called. 

Our  hope  that  this  greater  work  can  be  ac- 
complished rests  down  upon  two  fundamental 
facts;  we  believe  in  the  human  capacity  for 
response  to  an  ideal.  In  the  Middle  Ages  there 
was  poured  out  a  stream  of  treasure  and 
enthusiasm,  of  life  and  of  love,  in  the  Crusades 
which  is  the  amazement  of  history.  It  was  only 
[205] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

a  poor,  disappointing  ideal  which  thus  stirred 
the  heart  of  Europe  when  the  appeals  of  Peter 
the  Hermit  and  Bernard  of  Clairvanx  rang  out 
—  it  was  only  the  re-taking  of  the  tomb  where 
once  the  dead  body  of  Christ  was  laid  for  an 
hour,  but  it  was  an  ideal.  And  to  that  imperfect 
ideal  the  undying  capacity  of  the  human  heart 
for  moral  heroism  made  its  magnificent 
response. 

It  is  a  vaster,  higher  and  holier  ideal  which 
makes  its  appeal  to  our  generation.  We  are 
bent  upon  the  recovery  of  these  great  sections 
of  modern  life  where  the  Saracens  of  greed,  of 
lust,  and  of  fraud  are  encamped.  These  ene- 
mies of  our  Lord  scorn  the  Christian  ideal. 
They  bid  defiance  to  the  will  of  the  Most 
High,  and  we  are  sent  to  recover  from  the 
hand  of  the  enemy  these  living  souls  in  whom 
the  spirit  of  the  risen  Christ  seeks  to  dwell 
forevermore. 

This  vaster  ideal  is  slowly  taking  shape  in 
that  social  interest  and  social  sympathy  which 
have  become  the  dominant  notes  in  the  moral 
life  of  this  generation.  No  Peter  the  Hermit 
or  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  has  yet  appeared  to 
unlock  that  store  of  enthusiasm  requisite  for 
this  harder  task,  but  when  he  comes  the  con- 
science of  this  nation  will  make  its  mighty 
response.  There  will  come  forth  a  marching 
host  set  upon  the  reign  of  righteousness,  peace 
and  good-will,  causing  the  kingdom  of  God  to 
advance  by  leaps  and  bounds.  This  troubled 
situation  where  we  find  ourselves  is  not  final 
[206] 


Greater   Things   Ahead 

—  greater  and  better  work  than  this  shall 
we  do. 

Our  confidence  rests,  also,  upon  the  invincible 
will  of  God.  "  Fear  not,  it  is  your  Father's 
good  pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom !  ' '  He 
finds  his  highest  joy  in  aiding  men  toward  that 
great  achievement.  We  may  hasten  or  we  may 
hinder  the  accomplishment  of  his  will  by  fidel- 
ity or  infidelity,  but  the  kingdom  which  Christ 
proclaimed  is  sure  to  come.  "It  is  the  will 
of  God!  "  the  old  Crusaders  shouted  as  they 
faced  toward  the  Holy  Sepulchre  and  lined  up 
against  the  Saracens.  "  It  is  the  will  of  God !  ' ' 
these  knights  of  the  Cross  are  crying  as  they 
set  forth  to  recover  the  social  life  from  the 
grip  of  evil  and  to  transform  it  until  it  shall 
shine  by  the  indwelling  spirit  of  the  living  God. 
We  shall  see  a  nation  of  free  men  organized  in 
righteousness  and  acting  in  the  spirit  of  in- 
telligent good-will  for  the  coming  of  that  per- 
fect kingdom  here  on  earth. 

And  once  more,  "  Ye  shall  be  perfect  as 
your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect."  I  quote 
this  statment  as  it  stands  in  the  Revised  Ver- 
sion; it  is  a  promise  rather  than  a  command. 
It  was  spoken  originally  on  a  hillside  in  Galilee 
to  a  company  of  faulty  men.  One  man  in  the 
group  was  destined  to  lie,  denying  his  Lord 
with  an  oath ;  another  would  openly  doubt  him 
in  the  face  of  all  his  rich  experience  of  Christ's 
fidelity;  most  of  them  would  show  themselves 
cowards  and  quitters  when  the  day  of  stress 
came.  They  were  all  imperfect,  yet  there 
[207] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

stands  the  promise  in  its  full  strength  — ' '  Ye 
shall  be  perfect  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is 
perfect. ' ' 

In  the  light  of  what  Jesus  saw  of  the  un- 
realized capacity  for  spiritual  advance  in  every 
soul  and  in  the  light  of  the  sovereign  moral 
interest  of  the  Father  in  every  child  created 
to  bear  his  image,  he  could  say  nothing  less. 
It  holds  before  us  an  endless  task,  and  it  car- 
ries with  it  an  assurance  of  our  own  immortal- 
ity. If  we  are  to  achieve  so  much,  the  oppor- 
tunity must  be  commensurate  with  the  task.  If 
I  am  asked  to  read  all  the  books  in  the  British 
Museum,  I  realize  that  it  cannot  be  accom- 
plished in  threescore  years  and  ten  —  I  know 
that  the  very  command  carries  with  it  the 
pledge  of  an  adequate  opportunity.  When  I 
hear  this  promise  from  the  lips  of  moral  au- 
thority, "  Ye  shall  be  perfect,"  and  feel  the 
response  it  awakens  in  the  yearnings  and  as- 
pirations of  my  own  soul,  I  know  that  the 
opportunity  for  spiritual  advance  will  likewise 
be  adequate. 

We  find  an  earnest  of  ultimate  success  in  the 
history  of  the  race.  We  judge  these  human 
lives  as  we  judge  lines  in  geometry,  not  so  much 
by  their  present  position  as  by  the  direction 
they  take.  If  two  lines  are  exactly  parallel, 
no  matter  how  closely  they  may  lie,  you  may 
project  them  indefinitely,  yet  they  will  never 
meet.  But  if  the  two  lines  converge  ever  so 
little,  though  they  lie  as  far  apart  as  the  North 
Pole  and  the  South  Pole,  you  may  project  them 
[208] 


Greater   Things   Ahead 

with  full  assurance  that  somewhere  they  will 
meet.  The  direction  they  take  is  the  determin- 
ing fact. 

In  human  life  the  solid  fact  of  moral  prog- 
ress is  unmistakable.  The  direction  humanity 
has  taken  in  its  age-long  movements  furnishes 
us  a  splendid  confirmation  of  these  prophetic 
words  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  Christ.  Up 
out  of  a  brutish  ancestry  in  prehistoric  times, 
up  out  of  moral  conditions  coarse  and  terrible 
since  credible  history  took  up  the  record,  there 
has  come  this  fairer,  sweeter,  nobler  life  we 
know  to-day. 

And  the  direction  is  still  upward  and  on- 
ward. Where  ships  are  a  thousand  miles  at 
sea  under  full  sail,  with  all  the  breezes  of 
heaven  blowing  on  them  we  know  that  they  will 
go  farther.  Jesus  speaks  here  to  the  moral 
aspiration  of  the  race,  and  his  word  of  promise 
corroborates  the  best  we  know  and  feel.  The 
destiny  of  man  is  a  destiny  of  moral  progress 
with  this  goal  in  view  — ' '  Ye  shall  be  perfect 
even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect. " 

What  a  magnificent  expectation  to  march  at 
the  head  of  the  advancing  host!  Ye  shall  see, 
ye  shall  do,  ye  shall  be!  Because  history  is  a 
progressive  unveiling  of  the  divine  face  and 
purpose,  we  shall  see  greater  things  than  men 
have  yet  seen.  Because  men  of  faith,  working 
out  their  own  salvation,  are  conscious  that  God 
is  working  within  them  to  perform  his  good 
pleasure,  we  shall  do  greater  and  ever  greater 
work.  And  because  the  purpose  of  the  ages 
[209] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

stands  announced  at  the  threshold  of  Scrip- 
ture, "  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,"  we 
shall  at  last  be  perfect  even  as  our  Father  in 
heaven  is  perfect.  This  is  the  great  expecta- 
tion moving  ahead  like  a  pillar  of  fire  and  guid- 
ing the  race  through  dreary  sands  and  bitter 
waters  into  the  land  of  promise. 


[210] 


XIII 

THE   RELIGIOUS   LIFE   UNDER 
CHANGED   CONDITIONS 


"How  shall  we  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange 
land?"  —  PSALM  cxxxvu,  4. 


XIII 

THE   EELIGIOUS   LIFE   UNDER 
CHANGED   CONDITIONS 

HOW  often  you  hear  the  children  of  God 
singing!  When  Moses  led  the  Israelites 
out  of  Egypt  and  across  the  Bed  Sea  they  stood 
on  the  shore  singing.  It  was  a  brave,  glad 
song  —  *  *  The  Lord  hath  triumphed  gloriously ; 
the  horse  and  his  rider  hath  he  cast  into  the 
sea."  When  the  ancient  Hebrews  brought  up 
the  ark  of  the  covenant  from  its  narrow  tent 
into  the  temple  Solomon  had  built,  they  were 
singing!  "  Lift  up  your  heads,  0  ye  gates; 
be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting  doors;  and  the 
King  of  glory  shall  come  in." 

When  Jesus  and  his  disciples  celebrated  the 
last  supper  in  the  upper  room  they  sang  a 
hymn  before  they  went  out  into  the  Garden  of 
Gethsemane.  It  was  the  old  Paschal  hymn 
which  the  Jews  have  been  singing  for  thirty 
centuries.  When  Paul  and  Silas  were  unjustly 
imprisoned  in  that  Philippian  jail  the  other 
prisoners  heard  them  singing  at  midnight.  It 
was  just  before  the  earthquake  which  shattered 
the  walls  of  the  prison  and  all  hearts  were  re- 
assured by  that  song  of  hope  sounding  through 
[213] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

the  corridors.  And  when  at  last  the  redeemed 
host  stands  before  the  great  white  throne  the 
people  are  singing.  They  sing  "  the  song  of 
Moses  and  the  Lamb, ' '  the  song  of  moral  order 
and  redemptive  love.  You  can  scarcely  get 
beyond  the  sound  of  music  anywhere  in  the 
pages  of  God's  holy  word. 

It  is  altogether  fitting  that  it  should  be  so. 
Music  can  be  made  the  noblest  expression  of 
Christian  aspiration.  "  When  we  find  religion 
standing  on  its  feet  and  working  with  its  hands, 
it  is  morality.  When  we  find  religion  thinking 
hard  upon  fundamentals  and  striving  to  ground 
its  hope  in  moral  reason,  it  is  theology.  But 
when  we  pierce  to  the  heart  of  it  and  find  it 
in  the  mood  of  worship  and  aspiration,  it  is 
always  a  song."  Those  sentiments  of  faith  and 
hope  and  love  which  issue  from  the  lips  of  be- 
lieving men  and  women  in  hymns  of  praise 
have  wonderful  power. 

But  here  in  the  text  was  a  group  of  religious 
people  who  refused  to  sing.  They  were  Jews, 
but  they  had  been  carried  away  captive  into 
the  haughty,  pagan  city  of  Babylon.  Away 
yonder  to  the  west,  across  hundreds  of  miles 
of  mountain  and  plain,  was  the  soil  they  loved. 
Palestine  was  the  place  of  their  desire.  The 
wealth  and  gayety  of  this  foreign  capital  did 
not  appeal  to  them  for  one  moment.  They 
were  homesick,  wretched  and  bitter.  And 
when  those  who  had  taken  them  captive  asked 
them  to  sing  one  of  the  songs  of  Zion  for  the 
entertainment  of  Babylon,  as  a  company  of 
[214] 


Changed   Conditions 

Northern  people  might  ask  a  group  of  negroes 
to  sing  some  old  plantation  melody,  the  Jews 
resented  it.  They  answered,  mournfully  per- 
haps, but  indignantly,  we  know,  for  the  last 
words  of  this  psalm  are  harsh,  * '  How  can  we ! 
How  can  we  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange 
land!" 

In  the  face  of  all  their  shattered  hopes  they 
did  not  feel  like  singing.  They  might  possibly 
have  repeated  the  ten  commandments.  They 
might  have  recited  some  creed  statement  in- 
dicating their  belief  in  one  true  and  living  God, 
who  had  sustained  them  in  those  hard  days. 
They  might  have  opened  their  hearts  to  make 
some  costly  sacrifice,  as  an  act  of  worship. 
Any  one  of  these  things  they  might  have  done. 
But  to  set  the  choicest  sentiments  they  had  to 
music  and  cause  them  to  flow  forth  in  gracious 
melody  seemed  to  them  impossible.  They 
hung  their  harps  on  the  willows  and  sat  down 
in  gloomy  silence.  They  could  not  sing  the 
Lord's  song  under  those  changed  conditions, 
and  the  song  was  left  unsung. 

What  a  picture  of  these  lives  of  ours  as  we 
know  them!  There  are  men  and  women  who, 
by  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  or  on  the 
slopes  of  some  lovely  Mount  Hermon,  sang  the 
Lord's  song  with  hearts  full  of  joy.  But  the 
hour  came  when  they  found  themselves  in  a 
strange  land.  The  conditions  were  all  changed 
and  all  foreign  to  their  wish.  The  walls  which 
shut  them  in  were  as  hateful  in  their  eyes  as 
were  the  walls  of  Babylon  to  those  captive 
[215] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

Jews.  And  then  the  words  of  the  old  song 
of  hope  and  cheer  would  not  come.  "  How  can 
we  sing  the  song  of  faith  and  hope  and  love," 
they  said,  "  under  these  changed  conditions 
where  our  lot  is  now  cast!  '  They  went  on 
repeating  the  ten  commandments  and  keeping 
them.  They  still  recited  some  sort  of  confes- 
sion of  faith,  broken,  it  might  be,  in  places. 
They  still  opened  their  hands  to  do  good,  even 
where  it  involved  sacrifice.  But  the  joy  and 
zest,  the  relish  and  enthusiasm  they  once  felt 
in  Christian  life  and  service  were  gone.  They 
had  not  learned  to  sing  the  Lord's  song  under 
these  changed  conditions. 

The  policy  of  silence  involved  a  serious  loss 
to  those  ancient  Israelites.  When  they  allowed 
the  Lord's  song  to  die  from  their  lips  they 
lost  some  portion  of  their  love  for  the  Lord 
himself  out  of  their  hearts.  They  lived  along 
in  that  strange  land  until  in  great  measure 
they  forgot  the  Lord's  land.  The  right  hand 
did  not  forget  its  cunning,  but  the  heart  forgot 
its  attachment  to  Jerusalem.  When  their  re- 
lease came  some  years  later  and  they  had  a 
chance  to  return  to  Palestine,  only  one  in  seven 
of  them  cared  to  go.  The  rest  of  them  had 
become  Babylonians,  doing  in  Babylon  as  the 
Babylonians  did.  In  large  measure  it  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  they  had  neglected  to  sing  the 
Lord's  song  in  that  strange  land. 

This  involved  a  loss  to  the  Babylonians  also, 
whose  hearts  might  have  been  touched  by  music 
of  a  higher  order.  They  might  have  heard  a 
[216] 


Changed   Conditions 

message  from  the  Eternal  in  those  songs  of 
Zion.  Imagine  the  effect  of  hearing  a  company 
of  exiled  Hebrews  there  in  the  valley  of  the 
Euphrates  singing,  "  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes 
unto  the  hills  from  whence  cometh  my  help. 
My  help  cometh  from  the  Lord. ' '  Imagine  the 
effect  of  hearing  those  Hebrews,  hundreds  of 
miles  from  their  native  land,  singing,  ".I  was 
glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  into 
the  house  of  the  Lord.  Our  feet  shall  stand 
within  thy  gates,  0  Jerusalem."  The  Hebrews 
would  better  have  sung  the  Lord's  song  in  that 
strange  land,  for  their  own  sakes  and  for  the 
sake  of  those  who  would  have  heard  them. 

What  are  some  of  the  causes  which  silence 
the  lips  of  God's  people  in  our  day?  It  may 
be  a  change  in  outward  condition.  You  can 
think  of  people  who  were  religious  when  they 
were  prosperous.  They  found  satisfaction  in 
the  worship  and  in  the  work  of  the  kingdom. 
They  were  happy  in  their  gifts  to  benevolence 
and  in  the  exercise  of  the  grace  of  Christian 
hospitality.  But  reverses  came.  They  lost 
their  money  and  now  they  are  sore.  They  feel 
sometimes  that  their  old  friends  are  avoiding 
them,  simply  because  they  themselves  have 
drawn  back  into  their  shells.  They  may  think 
that  God  has  forgotten  them  because  they  are 
not  able  to  do  as  much  for  his  cause  financially 
as  they  once  did.  They  hang  their  harps  on 
the  willows  and  refuse  to  sing.  They  are  not 
bad  people,  but  they  no  longer  count  in  active 
Christian  service. 

[217] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

You  can  think,  also,  of  those  who  travel  this 
same  road  in  exactly  the  opposite  direction. 
In  the  old,  simple  conditions,  when  they  were 
in  modest  circumstances,  they  were  Christians, 
earnest,  active,  useful.  But  wealth  came  and 
a  great  house,  with  its  luxury  and  display. 
Steam  yachts  and  automobiles,  social  dissipa- 
tion and  incessant  travel  all  helped  to  change 
the  entire  mood  of  their  lives.  Spiritual  in- 
difference crept  in  and  an  utter  neglect  of  the 
old  ways.  The  saying  of  grace  disappeared 
from  the  table,  and  the  feeling  of  grace  faded 
out  of  the  heart.  There  was  no  room  for  the 
Church  in  this  crowd  of  pushing  interests.  The 
Lord's  song  went  unsung,  month  after  month, 
until  the  children  of  those  men  and  women  who 
once  were  earnest  Christians  scarcely  knew 
how  that  song  sounded.  These  friends  did  not 
learn  "  how  to  abound,"  by  serving  God  with 
their  abundance. 

You  find  those  who  stopped  singing  because 
sorrow  came  in  the  death  of  one  they  loved. 
They  are  plunged  in  gloom  and  they  propose  to 
remain  there.  It  accomplishes  nothing  to  as- 
sure them  that  this  is  the  last  thing  that  dear 
one,  standing  in  the  light  where  there  is  no 
darkness  at  all,  would  have  them  do.  "  It 
is  a  strange  land,"  they  say,  "  this  land 
of  grief,"  and  no  Lord's  song  will  rise  from 
their  lips. 

You  find  those  who  cease  to  sing  because  of 
the  new  joys  they  have  experienced.  The  bride 
and  groom  in  the  sweet  pleasure  of  their  love 
[218] 


Changed   Conditions 

and  of  the  home  they  have  established;  the 
young  father  and  mother  in  the  joyous  posses- 
sion of  that  child  born  to  them  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God ;  the  restored  invalid,  lifted  from 
his  sick-bed  into  such  physical  vigor  as  he 
feared  might  never  be  his  again,  and  now  re- 
joicing in  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  glad  out- 
doors—  all  these,  and  scores  of  other  happy 
experiences,  leading  men  and  women  into  the 
new  and  bewildering  delights  of  some  strange 
land,  serve  to  obscure  the  old  interests  of  wor- 
ship and  service,  until  they  fail  through  sad 
neglect. 

What  a  loss,  and  what  an  unnecessary  loss! 
Every  added  experience,  sweet  or  bitter,  should 
increase  one's  power  to  sing  God's  praise  and 
to  make  the  life  tell  for  the  coming  of  his  king- 
dom. Many  people  never  sing  with  real  effec- 
tiveness until  they  pass  through  some  period 
where  they  feel  as  if  they  might  never  be  able 
to  sing  again.  When  Jenny  Lind  began  to 
give  her  concerts  in  Europe  a  music  master 
listened  and  nodded  his  head  approvingly. 
11  It  is  glorious,"  he  said,  "  glorious.  But  if 
she  could  only  suffer  for  a  year  she  would  sing 
like  an  angel."  A  little  later  she  suffered  for 
more  than  a  year.  She  carried  with  her  a 
broken  heart,  and  when  she  opened  her  lips 
again  it  was  like  the  song  the  angels  sang  that 
night  in  the  skies  above  Bethlehem.  Right  here 
under  the  stress  of  that  heavy  burden  you 
carry;  right  here  beneath  the  shadow  of  that 
sorrow  which  hides  the  sun  and  all  the  stars; 
[219] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

right  here  with  that  feeling  of  depression  which 
comes  from  the  sense  of  defeat,  sing  the  Lord's 
song.  Because  you  have  suffered,  the  music 
your  life  utters  will  carry  new  and  deeper 
notes. 

We  are  told  sometimes  that  modern  congre- 
gations cannot  be  made  to  sing ;  that  it  is  con- 
trary to  the  mood  and  temper  in  which  people 
live ;  that  the  present  attitude  toward  religion 
is  intellectual  and  practical  rather  than  mysti- 
cal and  devotional;  and  that  all  this  is  fatal 
to  music. 

It  is  not  so  in  all  congregations.  It  would 
be  a  sad  loss  if  that  were  true  of  any  congrega- 
tion. We  cannot  live  by  bread  alone,  or  even 
by  bread  and  books.  We  want  the  clear  light 
of  knowledge  and  the  plain  utility  of  humane 
service,  but  we  want  also  that  warmth  of  senti- 
ment and  that  enthusiasm  in  devotion  which 
find  their  fullest  expression  in  Christian  song. 

The  late  Frederic  Harrison  had  a  keen  dis- 
like for  everything  emotional  or  mystical  in 
religion.  He  founded  a  School  of  Positive 
Philosophy,  and  Sunday  services  were  held  in 
London,  where  they  had  an  abundance  of  in- 
tellectual daylight  and  nothing  else.  He  was 
learned,  sincere,  and  a  man  of  unusual  force, 
but  the  movement  failed  utterly.  "  Where  did 
you  attend  church  this  morning?  "  one  gentle- 
man asked  another  at  a  hotel  in  London  one 
Sunday.  "  I  was  at  Frederic  Harrison's 
Temple  of  Light."  "  And  what  did  you  find 
there?  "  "  I  found  three  persons  and  no 
[220] 


Changed   Conditions 

God. '  *  Where  men  lose  the  sense  of  devotional 
feeling  which  prompts  the  song  of  praise  they 
lose  also  their  power  of  spiritual  appeal. 

The  college  songs  have  value  in  the  life  of 
the  university.  They  often  embody  a  highly 
useful  quality  of  college  spirit.  When  the  men 
in  Cambridge  sing  "  Fair  Harvard,"  and  the 
men  at  Yale  sing  "  Bright  College  Years  "; 
when  the  men  at  the  University  of  California 
sing  "  The  Golden  Bear,"  and  the  men  at 
Stanford  sing  "  Hail,  Stanford,  Hail,"  the 
deeper  note  of  loyalty  to  the  institution  and  to 
all  its  splendid  traditions  is  thereby  struck. 

When  our  brave  men  in  blue  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  in  some  dark  hour  of  the  Civil  War 
singing,  * '  Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the 
coming  of  the  Lord,"  that  Battle  Hymn  of  the 
Republic,  they  were  nerved  for  the  conflict 
which  lay  ahead.  When  Cromwell's  Ironsides 
went  forth  on  Marston  Moor  chanting,  "  Let 
God  arise,  let  his  enemies  be  scattered, ' '  it  was 
an  earnest  of  spiritual  victory.  When  those 
brave  reformers  under  Martin  Luther,  pitting 
their  strength  against  spiritual  despotism, 
stood  up  and  sang,  "  Ein  feste  Burg  ist  unser 
Gott,"  the  act  of  praise  became  a  prophecy 
of  the  triumph  they  were  destined  to  win.  The 
spirit  of  loyalty  is  expressed  and  developed  in 
such  a  song  of  aspiration.  When  the  day  is 
long  and  the  strife  hard,  sing  the  Lord's  song 
all  the  more.  Sing  the  song  of  hope  in  that 
strange  land  where  you  find  yourself,  and  the 
land  may  become  no  longer  strange. 
[221] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

In  the  second  place,  the  lips  may  be  silenced 
by  a  change  of  belief.  Many  people  feel  that 
these  are  strange  times  upon  which  we  have 
fallen.  Where  are  the  old  standards  to  which 
men  formerly  submitted  their  questions  as  to 
a  court  of  final  appeal?  When  all  Christians 
believed  in  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  they 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  accept  what  it  said. 
It  was  easier  then  to  sing  the  song  of  faith. 
When  all  Christians  believed  that  the  Bible  was 
the  infallible  expression  of  the  mind  of  God, 
every  syllable  of  it,  with  no  need  for  discrimi- 
nation or  appraisal  in  judging  its  various 
parts,  the  song  of  high  confidence  rose  without 
a  tremor.  When  some  finished  system  of 
theology,  strongly  made,  part  dovetailing  into 
part  with  absolute  precision,  was  accepted 
without  question,  the  mind  and  heart  were  left 
free  to  sing.  But  in  these  days,  when  the  study 
of  history  and  of  literature,  of  science  and  of 
philosophy,  has  changed  all  this ;  in  these  days 
when  every  man  is  called  upon  to  exercise  his 
own  godly  judgment  regarding  these  conflicting 
claims,  and  to  do  it  at  his  own  risk,  some  of 
the  glad,  confident  songs  of  praise  are  hushed. 

Not  only  the  changed  attitude  in  theology 
but  the  changing  attitude  in  certain  quarters 
touching  man's  moral  freedom  has  silenced  the 
song.  "  Heredity  and  environment  have  us 
bound  hand  and  foot,"  men  are  saying.  We 
act  not  as  we  choose  but  as  we  must.  We  are 
what  we  are  by  the  operation  of  forces  which 
we  cannot  control.  Whatever  is,  had  to  be; 
[222] 


Changed   Conditions 

and  whatever  will  be  will  be,  whether  we  like 
it  or  not. 

Gloomy,  pessimistic  determinism  like  this  is 
not  confined  to  a  few  sad-eyed  philosophers 
shut  up  in  a  closet.  It  is  being  preached  auda- 
ciously at  the  street  corners  and  proclaimed 
from  the  housetops.  Men  know  by  heart  * '  the 
parable  of  the  soil,"  which  is  the  parable  of 
environment.  They  know  that  hard  or  stony 
or  weedy  soil  may  register  its  verdict  against 
a  harvest.  They  have  not  learned  so  well  *  *  the 
parable  of  the  seed, ' '  where  the  inner  life  prin- 
ciple, be  it  wheat  or  tare,  becomes  the  deter- 
mining factor  in  the  harvest.  Here  were  wheat 
and  tares  sown  in  the  same  soil  with  varying 
results  determined  from  within.  But  many  are 
hanging  out  the  flag  of  distress.  "  We  are  not 
free  to  choose.  We  are  the  tools  of  fate.  We 
are  caught  and  held  within  the  grip  of  forces 
titanic,  which  may  carry  us  to  the  bottom  in 
spite  of  everything. ' '  This  is  not  the  mood  for 
music  —  no  song  issues  out  of  that  temper. 

The  song  of  Christian  enthusiasm  has  been 
hushed  in  some  hearts  by  the  changed  ideals 
in  the  world  of  industry.  There  are  men  who 
claim  that  it  is  impossible  to  reconcile  Chris- 
tian ethics  with  the  economic  conditions  under 
which  so  many  of  our  fellows  are  compelled  to 
live.  They  refuse,  therefore,  to  sing  on  Sunday 
what  they  have  no  intention  of  practicing  on 
Monday. 

We  are  undoubtedly  feeling  the  influence  of 
more  searching  principles  of  right  and  wrong 
[223] 


The   Quest  of  Life 

action  in  corporate  life.  We  live  in  the  pres- 
ence of  finer  and  more  exacting  ideals  touch- 
ing the  treatment  of  our  fellows  in  the  world 
of  business.  There  was  a  time  when  a  man 
might  rapidly  accumulate  a  fortune  by  methods 
legal,  perhaps,  but  showing  scant  regard  for  the 
human  values  at  stake  and  then  turn  around 
and  play  the  role  of  "  Lord  Bountiful  "  in  his 
showy  philanthropies  and  be  held  up  to  the 
gaze  of  admiring  youth  for  their  applause. 
That  day  has  gone.  The  picture  does  not 
awaken  a  thrill  in  the  heart  of  modern  society. 
Thoughtful  men  are  insisting  in  downright 
fashion  that  fortunes  must  be  won  as  well  as 
given  away  by  methods  which  harmonize  with 
the  higher  ideals.  The  steps  of  a  good  man 
must  be  ordered  by  the  Lord,  not  only  in  his 
private  virtues  and  in  the  treatment  of  his 
family,  but  in  the  courses  of  action  he  pursues 
in  commercial  and  in  civic  life.  Because  that 
task  is  hard,  there  are  men  who  refuse  to  sing. 
They  are  unwilling  to  utter  in  any  form  the 
Christian  ideal,  since  they  propose  to  catch  the 
nearest  way  to  gain  their  ends.  And  many  a 
Christian  man  is  carrying  a  burden  on  his 
heart  when  he  sees  in  business  that  which  he 
feels  powerless  to  alter  —  and  that  takes  the 
joy  out  of  his  song. 

What  shall  we  say?  The  task  of  keeping  the 
faith,  of  holding  fast  to  Christian  principle,  and 
of  singing  the  song  of  Christian  aspiration,  is 
in  these  days  undoubtedly  another  and  a  harder 
task.  To  be  as  good  as  our  grandfathers  were 
[224] 


Changed   Conditions 

we  shall  have  to  be  a  great  deal  better  in  the 
application  of  Christian  principles  to  everyday 
life.  The  changed  attitude  in  the  matter  of 
religious  belief,  the  changed  conception  of 
human  nature  resulting  from  the  study  of 
psychology  and  from  a  more  scientific  inquiry 
into  the  forces  of  heredity  and  environment, 
together  with  the  emergence  of  more  exacting 
ideals  in  the  economic  world,  must,  of  neces- 
sity, modify  our  song. 

But  these  things  need  not,  they  must  not, 
silence  it.  The  finer  discrimination  in  the 
matter  of  belief,  the  fuller  sense  of  all  that  is 
involved  in  that  mystery  we  call  personality, 
and  the  moral  heroism  required  to  make  the 
six  days  of  labor  as  holy  as  the  seventh  day  of 
rest  and  worship,  will  only  serve  to  bring  out 
the  finer  accents  in  that  music  of  the  higher 
life.  The  very  difficulty  and  vastness  of  our 
present  undertaking  will  make  the  attack  of 
the  singers  more  sharply  defined.  The  intri- 
cacy and  the  rich  content  of  these  problems 
which  we  face  will  make  the  harmony  of  the 
resultant  music  more  complete  and  satisfying. 
The  great  volume  of  moral  aspiration  will  rise 
from  the  hearts  of  resolute  Christian  men  bent 
upon  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  all 
these  interests  like  the  sound  of  many  waters. 
The  Lord's  song  is  a  song  which  can  be  sung, 
and  must  be  sung,  under  any  conditions  where 
the  children  of  God  are  compelled  to  live. 

The  song  of  aspiration  is  silenced  in  certain 
hearts  by  some  cherished  bit  of  evil.  We  read 
[225] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

in  the  Bible  of  a  certain  strong  man  who  be- 
came a  leader  in  Israel.  He  laughed  at  all 
the  combinations  of  the  enemies  of  his  coun- 
try's peace.  He  seized  the  lion  which  roared 
against  him  and  rent  it  as  if  it  had  been  a 
harmless  kid.  He  carried  off  the  gates  of  the 
heathen  city  of  Gaza  as  if  they  had  been  the 
playthings  of  a  child.  He  stands  catalogued 
in  the  book  of  Hebrews  with  the  heroes  of  the 
faith,  who  subdued  kingdoms  and  wrought 
righteousness,  waxed  valiant  in  fight  and  turned 
back  the  armies  of  aliens. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  he  allowed  his 
moral  nature  to  sleep  for  a  night  in  the  lap  of 
evil.  And  when  he  arose  from  that  debauch 
he  was  shorn  of  his  strength.  He  did  not  know 
how  weak  he  was  — ' '  he  wist  not  that  the 
Lord  had  departed  from  him."  He  went  out 
and  shook  himself  as  at  other  times,  but  when 
the  Philistines  came  upon  him  he  was  power- 
less. They  took  him  and  bound  him ;  they  put 
out  his  eyes  and  compelled  him  to  grind  in  the 
prison  house  as  a  common  slave.  He  had  done 
wrong  and  the  Lord  had  departed  from  him. 
He  could  neither  sing  the  Lord 's  song  nor  fight 
the  Lord's  battles  nor  do  the  Lord's  work. 

All  these  things  were  written  for  our  in- 
struction, as  in  a  parable.  No  man's  moral 
power  is  safe  from  the  attacks  of  the  Philis- 
tines unless  it  is  guarded  by  sincerity  of  heart 
and  by  the  strong  defense  of  God's  favor.  The 
willful  cherishing  of  an  evil  purpose,  the  easy 
compromise  with  some  unrighteous  method,  the 
[226] 


Changed  Conditions 

bowing  down  of  some  section  of  the  life  to 
Satan  in  return  for  some  small  kingdom  of 
this  world  will  render  any  man  as  weak  as  a 
child.  Eternal  vigilance  is  the  price  of  spirit- 
ual vigor.  Truth  in  the  inward  parts  is  what 
each  man  must  pay  for  force  of  character.  It 
cannot  be  had  on  any  other  terms.  If  the 
Lord's  song  is  to  rise  triumphantly  from  the 
lips  it  must  spring  from  a  heart  where  he 
reigns  supreme. 

We  have  seen  the  changed  conditions  which 
in  many  lives  lower  the  pitch  and  reduce  the 
volume  of  moral  aspiration.  But  in  a  rightly 
ordered  life  these  things  are  powerless  to 
silence  the  song.  The  great  moral  imperatives 
are  in  no  wise  impaired  by  these  altered  con- 
ditions. Are  reverence,  trust  and  obedience 
toward  the  highest  we  know  any  the  less  obli- 
gatory? Is  the  demand  for  intelligent  and 
persistent  good-will  toward  our  fellow-beings 
any  the  less  peremptory?  Is  the  moral  tonic 
to  be  gained  through  prayer,  through  the 
thoughtful  reading  of  Scripture,  and  from  the 
cherished  hope  of  life  immortal  any  the  less 
real?  Are  the  joys  of  unselfish  service  and 
the  satisfying  fellowship  of  men  of  like  aspira- 
tions with  us  any  the  less  rewarding?  All  these 
precious  values  rest  upon  foundations  which 
stand  sure.  The  deep  diapason  in  the  Lord's 
song  sounds  forth  to-day  as  rich  and  strong 
as  it  did  when  the  morning  stars  sang  .to- 
gether and  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy. 

In  whatever  state  you  find  yourself,  in  a  land 
[227] 


The   Quest  of  Life 

familiar  or  in  a  land  that  is  strange,  sing  your 
song  of  faith  and  hope  and  love!  It  will  help 
you  to  live  the  life ;  others  will  hear  your  song 
and  they  will  be  helped.  Order  your  life 
aright  and  you  can  sing  the  Lord's  song  any- 
where and  everywhere  with  a  confidence 
sublime. 

And  as  you  go  forth  into  the  future,  not 
knowing  what  a  day  may  bring  forth;  as  you 
move  out  upon  an  unknown  continent  of  expe- 
rience, take  your  harp  with  you  and  sing  your 
song  of  aspiration  and  high  resolve.  In  the 
face  of  whatever  may  come  show  yourself 
blithe,  radiant,  undaunted,  and  by  his  almighty 
aid  you  will  transform  that  strange  land  into 
a  land  of  promise. 

"  So  long  thy  power  hath  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on, 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone, 

And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile." 

Sing  it!  Sing  it  with  all  your  heart,  and 
though  for  years  you  may  wander  and  wonder, 
you  will  at  last  find  yourself  singing  in  some 
mansion  of  our  Father's  house. 


[228] 


xrv 

THE   USES   OF   DISAPPOINTMENT 


"In  the  year  that  King  Uzziah  died  I  saw  also  the 
Lord."  —  ISAIAH  vi,  1. 


XIV 
THE   USES   OF   DISAPPOINTMENT 

IT  had  been  a  hard  year  for  this  young  man. 
He  was  a  warm-hearted  hero  worshiper; 
he  was  an  ardent  patriot ;  he  honored  the  king. 
And  now  the  king  was  dead! 

The  king  had  been  a  wise  and  good  ruler 
who  served  his  country  well.  He  fortified 
Jerusalem,  his  capital  city,  by  building  towers 
at  the  valley  gate  and  at  the  turning  of  the 
wall.  He  showed  an  effective  interest  in  the 
physical  well-being  of  his  subjects  — "  he 
loved  husbandry. ' '  He  dug  wells  in  the  desert. 
He  had  much  cattle  in  the  low  countries  and 
on  the  plains.  He  caused  vineyards  to  be 
planted  on  the  slopes  of  Carmel.  His  reign 
was  beneficent  and  he  was  greatly  beloved. 

But  in  some  mysterious  way  this  wise  and 
good  king  contracted  leprosy.  He  suffered 
through  all  the  closing  years  of  his  reign  from 
the  slow,  terrible  inroads  of  that  dread  disease. 
Royal  personage  though  he  was,  he  was  com- 
pelled by  the  stern  requirements  of  Jewish  law 
to  live  outside  the  city.  He  could  not  remain 
in  his  own  capital.  He  had  to  reign  by  deputy. 
At  last  he  died  a  victim  of  that  terrible  disease. 
[231] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

It  was  a  sad  shock  and  a  grievous  disappoint- 
ment to  all  the  people.  But  Isaiah,  the  coming 
prophet  of  his  time,  records  a  notable  expe- 
rience which  came  with  that  disappointment  — 
* '  In  the  year  that  King  Uzziah  died,  I  saw  the 
Lord." 

In  the  light  of  that  statement  let  me  in- 
dicate some  of  the  possible  uses  of  disappoint- 
ment. The  young  man's  hero  worship  passed 
over  into  a  profounder  faith.  He  had  been 
thinking  of  Israel's  welfare  as  bound  up  with 
the  life  and  service  of  that  good  ruler.  Now 
the  king  was  dead  and  he  must  plan  without 
Uzziah.  And  under  the  compulsion  of  that 
strange  experience  he  saw  the  Lord  high  and 
lifted  up,  sitting  upon  his  throne. 

His  moral  outlook  began  to  sweep  a  broader 
horizon.  His  trust  in  that  which  is  seen  and 
temporal  rose  into  a  clearer  recognition  of  the 
immediate  worth  of  that  which  is  unseen  and 
eternal.  The  very  failure  of  those  pleasant 
sources  of  expectation  in  his  valley  of  delight 
compelled  him  to  lift  up  his  eyes  afresh  unto 
the  hills,  from  whence  cometh  help.  And  look- 
ing up,  he  saw  the  Lord. 

No  one  life,  even  though  that  life  be  kingly, 
is  more  than  a  single  item,  a  solitary  detail,  in 
the  working  out  of  a  plan  destined  in  its  final 
consummation  to  transcend  our  highest  hopes. 
The  man  on  whom  so  much  depends  may  be 
removed,  and  then  we  must  plan  without  him. 
But ' '  after  the  death  of  Moses  the  Lord  spake 
to  Joshua."  After  the  death  of  David,  the  best 
[232] 


The    Uses   of  Disappointment 

king  Israel  ever  had,  the  Lord  brought  the 
prophet  Isaiah  to  the  front.  In  the  year  that 
some  religious  leader,  like  Jonathan  Edwards 
or  Charles  G.  Finney  or  Dwight  L.  Moody,  dies, 
the  Lord  develops  fresh  capacity  in  a  score  of 
other  men  impelled  by  the  necessities  of  the 
changed  situation  to  effort  more  resolute.  The 
king  is  dead,  long  live  the  King  of  kings !  He 
is  alive  and  at  work  within  this  unfolding  his- 
tory for  the  accomplishment  of  his  good  pleas- 
ure. How  the  hearts  of  men  would  be  em- 
boldened did  they  rise  more  readily  from  the 
mood  of  hero  worship  into  the  vision  of 
God! 

"  I  come  to  you  not  with  the  enticing  words 
of  man's  wisdom  nor  with  excellency  of 
speech  "  Paul  said  to  the  Corinthian  Church, 
"  but  in  demonstration  of  the  spirit,  that  your 
faith  may  stand  not  in  the  wisdom  of  men  but 
in  the  power  of  God."  He  put  no  slight  on 
intellectual  gifts.  He  was  a  well-trained  man, 
brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel.  He  was 
a  man  of  no  mean  ability  —  he  wrote  well-nigh 
a  third  of  the  New  Testament  with  his  own 
hand.  He  wrote  the  best  hymn  on  love  to  be 
found  in  print.  He  made  the  strongest  moral 
appeal  on  behalf  of  faith  in  immortality  ever 
penned.  He  was  a  thoughtful,  effective 
preacher  of  great  truths.  But  he  would  have 
the  faith  of  those  men  stand  ever  in  the  power 
of  the  divine  spirit.  In  the  year  when  they 
saw  the  human  props  to  their  belief  fall  away, 
he  would  have  them  see  the  Lord.  Not  in  hero 
[233] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

worship,  but  in  the  vision  of  God  are  we  to 
ground  our  hope. 

In  the  second  place,  the  young  man  saw  that 
the  divine  providence  includes  and  utilizes  the 
dark  days  as  well  as  the  bright.  We  get  into 
ruts.  We  find  them  comfortable,  satisfying 
ruts.  We  run  smoothly,  like  the  farm  wagon 
on  a  country  road,  because  we  are  in  that  well- 
worn  track.  Then  there  comes  a  shift  of  cir- 
cumstances which  throws  us  out  into  a  changed 
situation  where  we  are  compelled  to  wear  down 
another  track  for  the  progress  of  our  lives. 

Here  is  a  man  who  had  gained  a  compe- 
tence, but  he  loses  it  and  finds  himself  strug- 
gling! Here  is  one  who  loses  his  health  —  he 
passes  over  in  a  year  from  the  sweet  uncon- 
sciousness of  those  days  when  he  scarcely 
knew  that  he  had  any  organs  to  the  point  where 
he  feels  that  he  is  nothing  but  organs,  all  of 
them  conspiring  against  his  peace!  Here  is  a 
craftsman  thrown  out  of  employment  by  some 
new  invention  which  makes  his  trade  unneces- 
sary ;  now  at  fifty  he  finds  himself  no  longer  in 
demand!  Here  is  a  home  where  death  has 
taken  away  the  choicest  member  of  the  family ! 
In  every  case  the  materials  for  happiness  which 
remain  seem  broken  and  fragmentary.  The 
regal  fact  is  gone,  and  the  reign  of  those 
beneficent  forces  which  made  life  glad  is  at  an 
end. 

How  differently  men  take  such  disappoint- 
ments !  Some  look  down  in  settled  melancholy 
until  they  are  prompted  to  end  it  all  in  suicide. 
[234] 


The    Uses   of   Disappointment 

Others  are  brave  —  they  look  down,  but  in  the 
spirit  of  the  soldier.  They  regard  themselves 
as  pickets  sent  out  upon  their  beats  in  that 
lonely  country.  They  are  unhappy  as  they 
pace  to  and  fro  in  the  dark  and  cold,  but  in 
somber  resignation  they  stand  guard  until  re- 
lieved by  an  order  from  headquarters.  We 
cannot  judge  them  harshly  —  it  is  one  thing  to 
rejoice  in  the  goodness  of  God  when  everything 
is  going  one 's  way ;  it  is  another  matter  to  hold 
that  attitude  when  everything  seems  adverse. 

But  in  that  hard  hour  when  the  king  died 
Isaiah  looked  up  and  saw  the  Lord.  God  was 
not  dead.  And  whatever  God  allows  in  his  own 
world  cannot  be  so  terrible  but  that  his  chil- 
dren may  patiently  build  it  into  something 
which  will  express  his  deeper  purpose  and 
satisfy  their  hearts.  That  was  what  Isaiah 
saw  in  the  hour  of  his  disappointment.  The 
king  was  dead,  but  this  ardent  patriot  saw  the 
nation  moving  ahead  under  other  guidance, 
finding  through  its  sense  of  loss  some  new  form 
of  expression  for  its  deeper  life.  He  saw  that 
all  things,  the  dark  things  as  well  as  the  bright, 
things  easy  and  things  hard,  taken  in  their 
completeness  and  final  outcome  work  together 
for  good  to  those  who  are  headed  right. 

God  is  not  the  God  of  the  prosperous  alone. 
Whole  rooms  in  our  Father's  house  are  filled 
with  those  who  fight  the  good  fight,  keep  the 
faith  and  finish  their  course  in  a  steady  battle 
with  adversity.  God  is  not  the  God  of  sound 
health  alone.  He  might  have  made  us  incapable 
[235] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

of  suffering  as  granite  blocks,  but  no  one  would 
regard  that  as  a  gain.  The  fact  that  he  does 
not  in  his  omnipotence  instantly  heal  the  sick 
who  call  in  their  distress  indicates  that  in  his 
mind  there  are  greater  values  than  physical 
fitness.  The  sick-bed,  the  invalid  chair,  the 
home  of  pain  are  sometimes  the  scenes  of 
spiritual  victory,  of  saintly  disposition,  of  holy 
companionships,  which  become  at  once  a  rebuke 
and  an  inspiration  to  those  who  walk  in  fullness 
of  health.  The  soul  may  sit  in  the  ruins  of 
former  advantage  and  see  the  Lord  with  a 
clearness,  a  nearness  and  a  confidence  never 
experienced  when  those  advantages  stood 
about  him  in  stately  splendor.  His  account  of 
his  own  changed  lot  would  read  like  the  word 
of  the  prophet  — ' '  In  the  year  when  all 
things  went,  I  saw  the  Lord." 

I  am  not  wise  enough  to  interpret  adequately 
the  hard,  puzzling  experiences  which  fall  into 
our  lives.  No  man  is  —  the  returns  which 
might  warrant  such  final  effort  are  not  yet  in. 
The  instruments  for  complete  analysis  are  not 
in  our  hands.  The  meaning  of  a  full  half  of 
earth's  familiar  experience  shades  off  into  a 
mysterious  unknown.  Clouds  and  darkness  are 
round  about  him  even  though  righteousness  and 
judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne.  We 
know  in  part  —  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly. 

But    every    added    year    of    right    living 

quickens  our  power  of  insight.     We  see  that 

the  divine  purpose  may  include  pain  and  sorrow 

within  the   scope   of  its  plans  for   spiritual 

[236] 


The    Uses   of   Disappointment 

nurture.  The  artists  are  in  error  when  they 
clothe  their  angels  ever  in  white.  The  messen- 
gers of  the  divine  purpose  come  in  gray;  they 
come  in  black ;  they  come  in  the  ordinary  dress 
of  everyday  life.  They  come  with  a  diversity 
of  operation  engaged  in  their  ceaseless  effort 
to  bring  us  to  the  point  where  we  shall  have 
seen  and  felt  all  that  belongs  to  an  entire  hu- 
manity. God's  unhurried  purposes  are  not 
thwarted  by  some  event  which  seems  to  us  un- 
toward. The  comprehensive  grasp  of  his  provi- 
dence holds  many  a  sore  disappointment  as  an 
obedient  servant  of  his  sovereign  will.  Look 
up  and  reflect !  Look  deep  within  your  own  soul 
and  meditate  upon  the  finer  values !  Study  the 
meaning  of  that  somber  experience  until  your 
unfolding  vision  enables  you  to  see  the  Lord ! 

In  the  third  place,  the  young  man's  disap- 
pointment brought  him  a  new  sense  of  sympathy 
with  his  struggling  fellows.  Isaiah  belonged  to 
the  fortunate  class.  He  lived  on  the  Avenue. 
He  was  possessed  of  wealth.  He  had  an  assured 
social  position  which  gave  him  access  to  the 
Court  and  to  the  presence  of  the  king.  He  was 
familiar  with  the  customs  and  the  costumes  of 
fashionable  society  as  he  indicates  in  that  later 
chapter  where  he  rebukes  the  showy  extrava- 
gance of  the  idle  rich. 

But  through  his  own  disappointment  he  came 
to  feel  a  deeper  sympathy  with  the  wrongs  and 
defeats  suffered  by  the  common  people.  He 
felt  the  stress  of  that  poverty  which  is  caused 
by  selfish  monopoly.  "  Woe  unto  them  that 
[237] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

join  house  to  house  and  field  to  field  until  there 
be  no  room  "  —  no  room  for  people  of  less 
ability  to  live  human  lives.  He  saw  the  evil 
wrought  by  those  who  mix  their  colors,  confuse 
their  standards,  puzzle  their  own  souls  by  their 
moral  dexterity.  "  Woe  unto  them  that  put 
evil  for  good  and  good  for  evil,  darkness  for 
light  and  light  for  darkness,  bitter  for  sweet 
and  sweet  for  bitter. ' ' 

He  developed  a  new  sense  of  sympathy  for 
all  those  who  suffer  and  fail  through  the  selfish- 
ness of  their  fellows.  His  heart  grew  as  the 
outward  sources  of  satisfaction  diminished.  It 
is  by  virtue  of  experiences  like  these  that  sym- 
pathy attains  its  full  stature. 

Leland  Stanford  was  governor  of  the  state 
of  California,  and  afterward  a  United  States 
Senator  from  that  commonwealth.  He  was  the 
possessor  of  a  princely  fortune.  He  had  an 
only  child,  and  his  mind  was  full  of  plans  for 
the  life  of  that  boy.  If  that  son  should  choose 
a  business  career  the  father's  large  and  varied 
interests  would  open  before  him  untold  oppor- 
tunities. If  the  son  should  incline  to  political 
life  his  father's  experience  and  wide  acquaint- 
ance in  the  councils  of  state  and  nation  would 
give  this  youth  a  superb  advantage.  If  the 
boy  should  choose  a  profession,  his  training, 
equipment  and  opportunity  could  be  of  the  very 
best.  He  need  not  lack  any  good  thing. 

But  in  the  midst  of  these  loving  anticipations 
cherished  by  his  devoted  parents  the  boy  of 
twelve  fell  sick  and  died  in  sunny  Italy.  The 
[238] 


The    Uses   of  Disappointment 

light  went  out  of  the  lives  of  those  parents. 
The  joy  faded  from  their  hearts.  He  was  their 
all.  Their  hopes  for  happiness  as  the  sun 
should  go  down  the  western  slope  were  all  cen- 
tered in  that  child.  They  had  traveled  far  and 
wide;  they  had  tasted  the  pleasures  of  social 
life  at  its  best;  they  had  reaped  an  abundant 
•measure  of  visible  success,  and  now  the  mere 
prospect  of  living  on  to  spend  the  income  of 
their  many  millions  in  loneliness  seemed  to 
them  pain  insupportable. 

But  in  the  year  when  the  regal  fact  in  their 
lives  was  taken  away  they  saw  the  Lord.  They 
entered  profoundly  into  a  new  feeling  of  sym- 
pathy for  all  those  lives  which  are  baffled  in 
their  purposes.  They  stood  ready  to  assume  a 
vaster  responsibility.  The  saddened  father 
looked  through  the  windows  of  his  own  desolate 
home  upon  the  wide  spaces  of  that  common- 
wealth and  said,  "  The  children  of  California 
shall  all  be  my  children. ' ' 

With  the  death  of  their  own  child  came  the 
purpose  of  founding1  and  endowing  for  all  time 
a  splendid  educational  institution  where  young 
men  and  maidens  might  be  trained,  tuition  free, 
for  lives  of  honor  and  usefulness.  Whether 
those  parents  would  have  caught  the  vision  and 
have  done  their  great  work  without  the  disap- 
pointment no  one  can  say.  The  gift,  however, 
sprang  directly  from  that  disappointment,  as  a 
memorial  to  their  son.  And  now  "  Stanford 
University  "  is  one  of  the  most  splendidly  en- 
dowed institutions  for  higher  learning  in  all  the 
[239] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

world.  Young  people  by  the  thousands  from 
California,  from  all  the  states  of  the  union, 
and  from  lands  beyond  the  sea  rise  up  and  call 
the  names  of  those  parents  blessed.  The  father 
and  mother  suffered  grievous  defeat  in  their 
own  plans,  but  out  of  that  pain  was  born  a 
purpose  in  which  nations  may  ultimately  be 
blessed. 

Blessed  are  they  that  mourn !  The  words  are 
not  meant  to  put  a  premium  on  sorrow.  They 
indicate  the  honor  and  value  which  attaches  to 
the  capacity  for  grief.  Blessed  are  they  who 
can  and  do  mourn.  When  the  humane  man  sees 
his  mother  becoming  old  and  feeble  his  heart  is 
saddened.  When  that  dear  companion  of  his 
childhood  dies  he  mourns  his  loss.  The  Modoc 
Indian  sees  his  mother  growing  old  and  he 
shuts  her  up  in  a  hut  until  she  starves  to  death, 
or  he  quietly  strangles  her.  He  then  goes  out 
hunting  —  he  does  not  mourn.  Blessed  are 
they  that  have  capacity  for  sorrow. 

Blessed  also  are  they  that  mourn,  for  the  eyes 
washed  in  tears  have  clearer  vision  for  the 
needs  of  others.  They  have  a  clearer  vision  of 
the  God  of  all  comfort.  I  sat  once  in  the  home 
of  a  brother  minister  after  his  little  daughter 
had  died.  We  talked  until  the  sun  went  down 
and  the  shadows  fell  around  us.  There  in  the 
darkness  he  opened  his  heart  and  told  me  how 
changed  the  world  was  without  her.  He  felt 
a  new  tenderness  and  sympathy  for  all  the 
people  on  earth  who  suffer.  He  felt  that  the 
little  plot  in  the  cemetery  gave  him  a  sense  of 
[240] 


The    Uses   of   Disappointment 

partnership  in  all  the  grief  of  the  human  race. 
He  felt  as  if  his  whole  left  side  had  become 
a  heart  now  tender  with  its  warmer  interest  in 
the  world's  pain.  "  Thou  hast  enlarged  me 
when  I  was  in  distress."  New  additions  are 
built  on  to  these  moral  natures  of  ours  when 
disappointment  comes.  We  are  increased  that 
we  may  house  that  capacity  for  deeper  feeling. 
Blessed  are  they  that  mourn !  In  the  year  that 
the  light  dies  out  of  some  earthly  situation 
men  see  the  Lord  and  feel  a  truer  kindliness 
toward  all  his  needy  children. 

The  Son  of  man  was  not  exempt.  "  He 
learned  obedience  by  the  things  that  he  suf- 
fered." There  is  no  painless  education  in  the 
deep  things  of  life.  He  "  learned  obedience  " 
—  it  was  not  an  original  endowment,  it  was  a 
spiritual  achievement.  He  learned  by  the 
things  he  suffered,  by  entering  personally  into 
the  profounder  experiences  of  grief  and  pain. 

Obedience  to  those  laws  of  life  which  lie  on 
the  surface,  fencing  men  off  from  the  coarser 
forms  of  evil,  may  readily  be  acquired  without 
pain  and  distress.  But  to  learn  obedience  to 
the  Father's  will  so  that  in  Gethsemane  or  on 
Calvary  one  can  still  say,  "  Not  my  will  but 
Thine  be  done,"  requires  a  deep,  prolonged 
participation  in  the  world's  pain. 

The  world  needs  men  and  women  who  have 
seen  the  Lord  in  their  hours  of  disappointment. 
It  has  work  cut  out  for  them  which  they  alone 
can  do.  In  one  of  the  Old  World  galleries  there 
is  a  picture  of  the  Crucifixion  where  the  artist 
[241] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

has  painted  a  group  of  cherubs  hovering  about 
the  head  of  the  cross.  They  are  examining  the 
crown  of  thorns.  One  of  them  feels  the  sharp 
prick  of  the  thorn  and  his  face  wears  a  curious 
look  of  surprise.  It  is  all  strange,  for  he  has 
never  felt  the  sting  of  pain.  He  wonders  at 
the  look  of  anguish  on  the  face  of  Christ. 

But  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  are  human 
figures  entering  into  the  meaning  of  it  all. 
They  have  felt  the  prick  of  pain.  They  too 
have  worn  the  crown  of  thorns  and  have  felt 
the  spear-thrust  in  the  side.  And  when  the 
gospel  is  to  be  carried  to  waiting  nations  God 
does  not  commission  the  innocent  happy  angels 
who  hover  in  that  upper  air.  With  all  their 
radiant  holiness  they  never  could  bind  up  the 
broken-hearted  or  bring  relief  to  the  guilty 
through  the  great  truths  of  the  atonement. 
They  could  not  carry  comfort  to  a  sinful,  needy 
world.  They  are  beautiful  as  they  hang  there 
in  the  gallery  but  incompetent  for  this  lower 
world  of  need.  The  Lord  of  compassion  sends 
forth  men  and  women  who  have  suffered  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross  to  proclaim  his  gospel  to  the 
waiting  nations. 

1 1  In  the  year  that  King  Uzziah  died  I  saw  ' ' 
—  I  saw  what  I  had  never  seen  before!  My 
hero  worship  passed  over  into  a  profounder 
faith  in  the  living  God.  My  conception  of 
Providence  was  broadened  until  it  made  provi- 
sion for  the  spiritual  value  of  sorrow  and  ad- 
versity. My  heart  was  enlarged  with  sympathy 
awakening  within  me  a  new  and  deeper  love  for 
[242] 


The    Uses   of  Disappointment 

all  my  fellows.  The  world's  redemption  is  to 
be  achieved  by  those  tear-stained  lives  that  have 
seen  the  light  die  out  and  then  come  again  — 
a  new  and  softer  light  by  which  they  walk  and 
work  as  it  directs  their  hearts  in  the  way  of 
peace. 


[243] 


XV 
THE   BANK  AND   FILE 


"  After  these  things  the  Lord  appointed  other  seventy 
also  and  sent  them."  —  LUKE  x,  1. 


XV 
THE   BANK  AND   FILE 

THE  message  of  our  Christian  faith  cannot 
be  written  in  a  book.  It  cannot  be  dis- 
played in  some  stately  form  of  ritual.  It  must 
be  embodied  in  a  life.  It  can  only  find  adequate 
expression  in  terms  of  personality. 

It  was  so  in  the  beginning,  is  now  and  ever 
shall  be.  "  As  the  Father  hath  sent  me,  I 
send  you,"  Jesus  said.  The  Father  projected 
his  life  and  love  into  one  country  of  the  world 
by  sending  his  Son.  The  Son  projects  his  life 
and  love  into  all  countries  by  sending  forth 
disciples,  men  who  have  caught  his  mood  and 
spirit.  He  sent  twelve,  and  then  seventy,  and 
then  three  thousand,  and  then  other  thousands, 
into  every  section  of  human  interest  whither 
he  himself  would  come.  This  is  the  only  abiding 
method.  Many  words  are  made  print,  but 
"  The  Word  "  which  saves  the  world  is  made 
flesh  and  dwells  among  us,  full  of  grace  and 
truth. 

Let  me  study  with  you  the  full  significance  of 
the  sending  out  of  the  other  seventy  disciples 
who  were  not  commissioned  officers  in  the  army 
of  the  Lord  —  they  simply  made  up  the  rank 
and  file.  You  will  remember  the  character  of 
[247] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

the  men  sent  out.  They  were  quiet,  obscure 
men  —  not  one  of  them  is  known  to  us  by  name. 
The  names  of  the  twelve  are  known  everywhere. 
The  greatest  church  in  Christendom  is  St. 
Peter's  at  Eome.  The  court  of  the  most  power- 
ful Christian  nation  is  known  as  the  Court  of 
St.  James.  More  children  are  named  for  St. 
John  than  for  any  other  saint  or  sinner  in  his- 
tory. And  we  have  St.  Andrew's  Brotherhood, 
St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital  and  St.  Matthew's 
School.  We  are  told  in  the  last  book  in  the 
Bible  that  the  names  of  those  twelve  apostles 
will  finally  be  written  on  the  foundation-stones 
of  the  city  of  God. 

But  none  of  you  can  give  the  name  of  any 
one  of  the  other  seventy.  They  are  the  quiet, 
untitled,  almost  unknown  men  and  women  whom 
Christ  sends  forth.  They  never  do  anything 
conspicuous.  They  will  never  sit  on  twelve 
thrones  judging  the  tribes  of  Israel.  They 
never  get  into  the  newspapers  or  into  history. 
But  they  go  about  doing  good,  and  their  names, 
Jesus  says,  are  ' '  written  in  heaven. ' ' 

They  were  numerous  —  seventy  of  them  — 
the  mere  list  of  so  many  names  would  have 
taken  too  much  space  in  this  brief  narrative,  so 
the  names  were  omitted.  They  symbolize  that 
great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number,  of 
all  nations  and  peoples,  kindreds  and  tongues, 
who,  having  aided  in  establishing  righteousness 
in  the  earth,  are  destined  to  stand  before  the 
throne,  clothed  with  white  robes  and  with  palms 
in  their  hands. 

[248] 


The  Rank   and   File 

The  other  seventy  were  all  laymen  — 
"  babes  "  in  theological  understanding.  The 
twelve  apostles  were  trained  and  set  apart  for 
their  work  by  a  high  and  holy  ordination,  but 
the  other  seventy  were  unofficial,  untitled  Chris- 
tians, going  forth  to  make  the  world  better  by 
living  in  it  as  followers  of  the  Master.  We  have 
no  words  of  depreciation  for  the  great  leaders, 
but  in  the  last  analysis  the  hope  of  the  world 
lies  in  the  work  of  those  plain,  everyday  people 
who  form  the  rank  and  file. 

You  may  have  seen  a  church  which  had  a 
minister  fifty  feet  high  and  several  deacons 
almost  as  tall  as  the  minister.  The  men  in  this 
small  group  were  very  conspicuous  for  their 
ability  and  zeal.  The  other  members  of  the 
church  were  not  more  than  five  feet  six  or  eight 
in  their  Christian  activity.  They  did  not  at- 
tempt much  —  their  time  was  taken  up  in 
watching  those  big  trees  of  righteousness  which 
towered  aloft  like  sequoias.  But  presently  the 
lofty  minister  in  this  church  accepted  a  call 
elsewhere,  the  two  great  deacons  moved  away, 
and  the  poor  church  was  left  enfeebled. 

You  may  also  have  seen  another  type  of 
church  where  the  minister  was  only  five  feet  six 
or  eight  or  possibly  ten,  but  he  had  around  him 
the  other  seventy,  a  considerable  company  of 
fellow  Christians,  who  were  equally  tall.  There 
were  no  giants  among  them,  no  sons  of  Anak, 
—  just  a  devoted  band  of  sizable,  useful  Chris- 
tians of  average  build.  But  they  were  all  ac- 
customed to  work  and  pray  and  live  the  life 
[249] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

—  and  in  response  to  the  efforts  of  that  church, 
the  kingdom  of  God  was  coming  all  the  while 
with  power  and  great  glory.  The  hope  of  the 
race  is  bound  up  with  the  service  of  those  in- 
conspicuous, untitled  Christians,  here  repre- 
sented by  the  other  seventy  Jesus  sent  forth. 

You  notice  also  the  method  of  their  going. 
They  went  "  two  and  two,"  for  companion- 
ship and  for  mutual  counsel.  The  whole 
method  of  our  Christian  undertaking  is  social, 
not  solitary.  The  man  who  flocks  off  by  him- 
self has  broken  with  the  Christian  method  and 
spirit. 

Two  and  two  —  it  may  be  that  husband  and 
wife  went  together.  If  any  of  the  other  seventy 
were  married,  they  could  not  have  done  better. 
And  we  may  be  sure  that  among  the  seventy 
there  were  women.  We  know  that  the  last 
Christians  to  leave  the  Cross  on  that  first  Good 
Friday  and  the  first  Christians  to  reach  the 
empty  tomb  on  that  first  Easter  morning,  were 
women.  Two  and  two  —  a  man  and  his  wife 
devoting  their  lives  in  sacred  companionship  to 
this  service  of  the  highest  interests  there  are. 

They  went  forth  "  as  lambs  among  wolves." 
No  teeth  nor  claws,  no  swords  nor  guns !  They 
went  as  Paul  went  into  Macedonia,  a  troubled 
region  then  and  a  troubled  region  now,  with  the 
gospel  of  peace.  They  went  as  Livingstone  went 
into  the  heart  of  the  dark  continent,  with  no 
weapon  but  the  great  love  in  his  own  heart. 
They  went  as  John  G.  Paton  went  among  the 
cannibals  of  the  South  Sea,  disarming  their 
[250] 


The   Rank   and   File 

opposition  by  the  potent  influence  of  his  own 
unselfish  devotion.  They  were  simple,  primi- 
tive Christians,  who  had  never  read  "  The 
White  Man's  Burden,"  nor  caught  the  trick 
of  backing  up  the  offer  of  a  higher  life  with 
gunpowder.  They  went,  taking  their  lives  in 
their  hands,  relying  upon  instruction  and  per- 
suasion, kindness  and  self-sacrifice,  for  the 
spiritual  victories  they  were  set  to  win. 
"  Lambs  among  wolves,"  kindness  pitted 
against  cruelty  —  this  is  the  line  of  spiritual 
advance. 

They  had  a  definite  purpose.  They  allowed 
nothing  to  distract  or  delay  them  in  their  ap- 
pointed work.  "  Salute  no  man  by  the  way," 
Jesus  said.  His  word  sounds  almost  curt.  But 
when  one  has  seen  the  endless  salaaming  and 
kotowing  which  make  up  a  full-orbed  oriental 
"  salute,"  he  sees  at  once  the  significance  of 
the  command.  Ambassadors  charged  with  a 
high  errand  will  not  allow  themselves  to  be 
hindered  by  trivial  social  observances  which  eat 
up  time  and  strength  to  no  purpose.  The  other 
seventy  were  conscious  of  the  importance  of 
their  mission  and  they  went  straight  along 
about  their  august  business,  that  they  might 
bring  peace  to  every  house  and  heart. 

They  went  as  the  forerunners  and  accredited 
representatives  of  the  Christian  mode  of  life. 
Jesus  sent  them  "  into  every  city  and  place 
whither  He  Himself  would  come ! ' '  They  could 
not  speak  as  he  did,  who  spoke  as  never  man 
spake,  but  they  could  tell  something  of  the  glad 
[251] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

tidings  he  had  brought.  They  could  not  live 
as  he  lived,  in  whom  neither  Pilate  nor  all  the 
ages  since  could  find  any  fault  at  all,  but  they 
embodied  some  measure  of  his  spirit  in  their 
bearing.  He  sent  them  as  he  sends  us,  to  show 
the  waiting  world  all  we  can  of  his  truth  and 
love;  to  someone  you  will  be  the  best  sample 
of  Christian  life  he  will  ever  be  privileged  to 
know  intimately.  It  imposes  a  tremendous 
responsibility,  but  it  is  the  method  of  the 
Master  —  "As  the  Father  hath  sent  me,  I  send 
you." 

This  was  their  message  —  into  whatsoever 
city  or  town  they  came,  they  were  to  say, '  *  The 
kingdom  of  God  is  come  nigh  unto  you."  It 
had  come  nigh  because  two  Christians  were 
there  speaking  the  truth  of  the  kingdom,  em- 
bodying the  spirit  of  the  kingdom,  living  the  life 
of  the  kingdom.  The  kingdom  of  God  means 
the  sway  and  rule  of  the  divine  spirit,  and  it 
was  there  in  the  lives  of  those  two.  By  the 
subtle,  irresistible  power  of  spiritual  contagion 
it  would  be  communicated  to  many  another  life. 

It  was  a  great  message!  He  did  not  send 
them  forth  to  exhort  the  world  to  be  a  bit  more 
decent  and  respectable  outwardly.  He  outlined 
their  task,  making  it  vital,  fundamental,  per- 
manent in  character.  "  The  kingdom  of  God 
is  come  nigh  unto  you  ' '  —  they  were  to  lift 
society  to  a  higher  loyalty,  to  a  more  exalted 
fellowship,  to  a  more  glorious  destiny.  This 
was  the  high  command  given  to  those  untitled 
people  who  made  up  the  other  seventy. 
[252] 


The  Rank  and  File 

What  tremendous  significance  Jesus  attached 
to  the  service  of  those  plain  people !  We  cannot 
all  be  major  generals  —  it  would  be  a  calamity 
if  we  could.  You  never  heard  of  a  battle  being 
won  where  the  commissioned  officers  did  all  the 
fighting.  If  the  officers  were  wise  and  brave 
they  had  their  share  of  honor,  but  the  issue 
turned  finally  upon  the  fidelity  of  those  plain 
men  without  shoulder-straps,  who  count  fours, 
march  in  platoons,  obey  orders  and  carry  the 
day. 

The  same  method  holds  in  the  war  against 
evil.  If  this  world  is  ever  won  to  Christ,  if  a 
Christian  civilization  ever  comes  down  out  of 
heaven  from  God,  beautiful  as  a  bride  adorned 
for  her  husband,  it  will  result,  not  so  much 
from  the  efforts  of  the  major  generals,  who 
write  big  books,  preach  great  sermons  and 
inaugurate  wide  reforms,  valuable  as  all  this 
work  may  be.  It  will  result  mainly  from  the 
fact  that  the  rank  and  file  have  kept  step, 
marched  close,  fought  bravely  until  evil  was 
trampled  in  the  dust.  By  plain,  everyday 
Christian  conduct  in  the  shop  and  in  the  store, 
in  the  school  and  in  the  home,  these  varied 
forms  of  interest  shall  at  last  become  king- 
doms of  our  Lord. 

We  sometimes  overlook  the  unmeasured 
worth  of  those  quiet  people  who  have  made 
Christian  duty  their  supreme  choice.  Their 
work  is  fully  known  only  to  him  who  seeth  in 
secret.  If  Rev.  Dr.  James  is  called  to  a 
large  city  church,  if  St.  Peter  is  made  a  bishop, 
[253] 


The  Quest  of  Life 

if  St.  John  writes  a  book,  everybody  knows  it. 
If  Brother  Bartholomew  endows  a  college,  or 
Brother  Nathaniel  founds  a  hospital,  the  news- 
papers all  have  it  with  headlines  and  pictures. 
This  is  all  very  well  and  the  kingdom  is  ad- 
vanced by  such  noble  service. 

But  "  Are  all  apostles?  Are  all  prophets? 
Do  all  speak  with  tongues?  Are  all  workers 
of  miracles?  '  There  are  many  walking  in 
what  Paul  called  "  an  excellent  way,"  whose 
service  is  altogether  simple.  They  cannot 
speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels ;  they 
do  not  understand  all  mysteries  and  all  knowl- 
edge; they  cannot  exercise  faith  that  would 
move  mountains,  but  they  can  love.  They  can 
suffer  long  and  be  kind.  They  can  act  the  part 
of  unselfishness  and  not  be  puffed  up.  They 
can  hope  and  endure,  they  can  bear  and  believe 
all  things  and  thus  move  along  that  great 
highway  of  spiritual  usefulness  which  "  never 
faileth." 

Moses  once  uttered  a  prayer  for  religious 
democracy.  "  Would  God  that  all  the  Lord's 
people  were  prophets. ' '  His  hope  is  in  process 
of  fulfillment.  The  Lord  gives  the  word,  great 
is  the  company  of  them  that  publish  it.  The 
other  seventy  went  everywhere  proclaiming 
the  kingdom.  They  are  doing  the  same  thing 
to-day.  Here  is  a  man  who  hears  a  sermon  and 
goes  home  to  preach  it  over  again  to  his  sick 
wife  —  he  preaches  it  better  because  he  leaves 
out  the  non-essentials,  using  only  those  parts 
which  are  vital.  Here  is  a  woman  who  repeats 
[254] 


The   Rank   and   File 

the  message  to  her  husband  who  is  at  work,  on 
the  street  car  perhaps,  and  could  not  come. 
Here  is  one  who  sees  some  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture shine  with  fresh  meaning  and  he  goes  out 
to  impart  it  to  a  friend  or  to  a  group  of  chil- 
dren. Thus  the  gospel  is  preached  far  and  wide 
by  those  who  feel  its  power  and  then  pass  it 
on,  according  to  the  method  of  the  unordained 
seventy.  May  the  Lord's  blessing  rest  richly 
upon  all  the  Lord's  people  who  have  in  this 
unofficial  way  become  prophets. 

You  may  be  tempted  sometimes  to  feel  that 
because  you  march  in  the  ranks  and  wear  no 
sword,  you  are  lost  in  the  crowd.  You  may  feel 
that  among  so  many  you  will  not  be  missed  if 
you  should  withhold  your  measure  of  service. 
You  are  mistaken.  When  an  experienced 
director  is  leading  a  great  orchestra  in  the 
rendition  of  some  splendid  composition,  his 
trained  ear  detects  the  slightest  omission.  The 
lack  of  a  few  notes  from  the  oboe  at  one  point, 
the  absence  of  a  few  taps  on  the  tympanum,  the 
failure  to  bring  in  those  softer  tones  of  flute 
or  harp  would  mar  for  him  the  completeness 
of  the  symphony.  And  that  rich  volume  of 
tone  which  comes  from  the  simultaneous  play- 
ing of  many  violins  would  not  be  secured  for 
him  by  half  the  number  of  violins,  each  one 
playing  twice  as  loud.  He  listens  with  the  ear 
of  an  expert  detecting  the  slightest  omission. 

When  we  assemble  to  render  to  God  a  service 
of  worship,  he  to  whom  the  service  is  offered, 
he  whose  spirit  directs  it,  notes  the  slightest 
[255] 


The   Quest   of   Life 

omission.  The  minister  may  fail  to  see  your 
empty  seat,  but  the  Father's  eye  would  note 
the  absence  of  any  one  of  his  children.  The 
people  may  not  know  whether  you  prayed  be- 
fore you  came  or  not,  but  each  cold  and  prayer- 
less  heart  means  a  definite  omission  in  the 
completeness  of  the  service  the  Lord  had  ex- 
pected. We  are  all  needed,  minister  and  choir, 
ushers  and  sexton,  each  one  doing  his  best,  and 
the  other  seventy  coming  in  that  the  volume 
of  praise  may  be  like  the  sound  of  many  waters, 
a  veritable  river  of  inspiration  making  glad 
the  city  of  God. 

The  results  of  the  mission  of  the  untitled 
seventy  were  significant.  They  returned  again 
with  joy  saying,  * '  Lord,  the  devils  were  subject 
unto  us  through  thy  name."  They  had  won 
notable  victories  over  the  forces  of  evil.  Sick 
people  had  been  healed;  men  wild  and  foolish 
in  their  religious  notions  had  been  instructed 
until  they  became  sane  and  useful;  men  held 
in  the  tight  grip  of  wrongdoing  had  been 
released  and  reclaimed  —  they  were  now  free 
and  brave  in  the  cause  of  righteousness;  peace 
had  come  to  many  a  house  and  many  a 
heart  where  the  good  news  of  the  kingdom  had 
been  proclaimed.  And  all  this  was  accom- 
plished by  those  plain  people  who  found  the 
forces  of  evil  subject  to  them  when  they  made 
their  approach  in  the  name  and  in  the  spirit 
of  Christ. 

Jesus  rejoiced  with  them  in  the  high  success 
of  their  undertaking.  "  In  that  hour  Jesus 
[256] 


The  Rank   and   File 

exulted  in  spirit"  —  it  is  the  only  instance 
where  we  read  that  he  "  exulted  " —  and  said, 
"  I  thank  thee,  0  Father,  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth."  Then  he  spoke  in  the  most  san- 
guine terms  as  to  the  outcome  of  all  such  move- 
ments of  the  plain  people  set  upon  the  coming 
of  the  kingdom  of  God.  "  I  saw  Satan  falling 
from  heaven  like  lightning !  ' '  He  gave  thanks 
that  God  had  revealed  himself,  not  so  much  to 
the  wise  and  prudent  as  to  those  simple,  child- 
like people  who  yielded  themselves  in  uncalcu- 
lating  devotion  to  his  service.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  privileged  twelve,  and  said,  "  Blessed 
are  the  eyes  which  see  what  you  see,"  the  moral 
power  of  the  common  people  possessed  by  the 
spirit  as  here  symbolized  in  the  success  of 
the  other  seventy.  Kings  and  priests  had 
desired  to  see  these  things  and  had  not  seen 
them. 

How  reassuring  it  all  is !  How  prophetic  of 
ultimate  victory !  The  great  moral  movements 
of  the  common  people,  when  they  become  fired 
with  a  passion  for  righteousness,  are  a  testi- 
mony to  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  among 
us.  He  is  here  resident,  powerful,  efficient, 
bringing  every  thought  into  captivity  to  the 
spirit  that  was  in  Christ.  He  is  here  working 
his  own  sovereign  purpose  and  will,  the  living 
energy  of  the  living  God.  He  is  here  in  all 
these  nobler  yearnings  and  broodings,  in  all 
these  finer  aspirations  and  better  impulses  in 
the  hearts  of  men.  He  finds  us  often  slow  to 
respond,  for  our  ears  are  dull  and  our  hearts 
[257] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

gross,  but  his  work  goes  on  until  there  comes  a 
great  awakening  of  moral  determination,  of 
spiritual  resolve,  of  high  insistence  upon  those 
principles  whose  right  it  is  to  rule.  Then  the 
eye  of  the  Master  sees  the  reign  of  evil  falling 
swiftly  to  its  doom. 

It  is  neither  possible  nor  desirable  that 
everyone  should  sit  on  the  right  hand  or  the 
left  hand  of  the  Son  of  man.  It  is  not  ours 
to  get  nor  his  to  give  —  it  shall  be  given  to 
those  for  whom  it  has  been  prepared.  But  it 
is  possible  and  desirable  that  everyone  should 
drink  his  cup  of  sacrifice  and  be  baptized  with 
his  spirit  of  devotion. 

Like  the  Jews  of  old,  everyone  can  build 
over  against  his  own  house  some  part  of  the 
perfect  world.  You  can  build  into  those  little 
children  a  set  of  holy  and  beautiful  desires. 
You  can  build  into  that  growing  boy,  whose  con- 
fidence you  enjoy,  some  ennobling  habits,  some 
sterling  principles,  some  inspiring  truths.  You 
can  build  into  the  heart  of  that  man  at  your 
side  a  deep  impression  of  the  worth  and  sincer- 
ity of  your  own  Christian  life.  You  can  build 
into  your  own  street  another  Christian  home, 
radiating  its  atmosphere  of  peace  and  love. 
You  can  build  into  your  church  a  record  of 
Christian  usefulness  which  will  reassure  and 
inspire  every  fellow-member.  And  while  you 
are  doing  that,  day  by  day  and  night  by  night, 
you  are  becoming  a  pillar  in  the  temple  of  re- 
deemed society  to  go  no  more  out.  You  are 
helping  to  rear  that  great  structure  of  service 
[258] 


The   Rank   and   File 

and  of  recovery,  which  shall  house  and  redeem 
the  enduring  interests  of  the  race. 

We  feel  here  in  our  country  at  this  time  a 
ground  swell  of  Christian  democracy.  How- 
ever we  may  distrust  the  showy  words  of  some 
of  its  self-appointed  leaders,  however  futile  and 
visionary  we  may  regard  some  of  its  impossible 
programmes,  there  is  no  manner  of  doubt  but 
that  the  plain  people  are  firmly  set  upon  the 
rule  of  certain  principles  of  righteousness 
which  have  to  do  with  the  coming  of  the  king- 
dom. The  other  seventy,  who  work  mainly 
with  their  hands,  have  not  been  receiving  an 
equitable  share  of  the  good  things  they  helped 
to  create.  The  untitled,  unprivileged  majority 
has  been  denied  that  fuller  participation  in  the 
general  prosperity  to  which  it  is  entitled.  And 
the  smaller  company  of  privileged  people  have 
had  more  than  was  good  for  them.  We  have 
too  much  poverty  and  too  much  luxury  for  a 
Christian  civilization.  We  have  too  many 
people  in  our  cities  who  live  without  working 
and  altogether  too  many  who  work  without 
living.  Now  the  other  seventy  are  rising  up  in 
a  mighty  insistence  upon  a  more  democratic 
spirit  in  the  control  of  great  industries,  upon 
a  more  humane  regard  for  the  higher  values 
at  stake  in  the  huge  business  of  production  and 
upon  a  more  equitable  distribution  of  the  good 
things  of  life. 

In  many  quarters  the  profound  significance 
of  this  unrest  seems  to  be  hid  from  the  wise 
and  prudent.  It  is  being  revealed  to  those 
[259] 


The   Quest   of  Life 

simple,  straightforward  natures  who  have  eyes 
to  see  and  ears  to  hear.  There  is  a  will  of  God 
to  be  recognized  and  realized  in  that  big  world 
where  men  buy  and  sell,  employ  and  are  em- 
ployed, quite  as  much  as  in  these  sacred  pre- 
cincts set  apart  for  song  and  prayer.  Let  the 
will  of  God  be  done ! 

"  Remember  the  week  day  to  keep  it  holy,'* 
someone  has  said.  It  is  a  divine  command; 
it  has  behind  it  all  the  authority  of  Sinai.  The 
broken  and  defeated  lives  which  have  suffered 
not  only  economic  but  moral  loss,  through  the 
weary  grind  which  has  robbed  them  of  the  zest 
and  relish  of  life,  are  offering  a  challenge  to 
the  moral  forces  of  the  country.  It  is  a  chal- 
lenge which  must  be  met.  The  people  are  de- 
manding the  moralization  of  industry,  the 
Tightening  of  civic  affairs  in  the  interest  of  the 
many  and  the  introduction  of  the  spirit  of 
Christian  brotherhood  into  all  these  forms  of 
social  contact.  And  when  that  insistence, 
which  is  Christian  at  heart,  makes  itself  felt,  as 
it  surely  will,  I  believe  that  again  the  great 
heart  of  Christ  will  rejoice  in  seeing  the  selfish 
forces  of  evil  overthrown  by  the  work  of  the 
other  seventy. 

It  is  a  vaster  movement  than  the  winning  of 
some  particular  victory  over  a  few  of  the  evils 
of  the  world.  When  the  seventy  made  their 
report  Jesus  exulted,  and  then  added,  "  Not- 
withstanding, in  this  rejoice  not  that  the  devils 
are  subject  unto  you.  Eejoice  rather  that  your 
names  are  written  in  heaven. ' '  The  success  of 
[260] 


The   Rank   and   File 

an  hour,  the  winning  of  a  single  skirmish,  the 
driving  back  of  the  forces  of  wrong  at  some 
particular  point  was  not  nearly  so  significant 
as  the  permanent  enrollment  of  those  men  and 
women  as  citizens  of  that  kingdom  which  is  an 
everlasting  kingdom. 

Good  men  may  win  a  victory  to-day  and  an- 
other to-morrow  and  then  on  the  third  day 
suffer  defeat.  Yet  all  the  while  because  their 
wills  have  been  brought  into  harmony  with  the 
will  of  God,  they  will  be  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  celestial  recognition;  they  will  be  moving 
ahead  toward  the  great  fulfillment  when  all 
these  kingdoms  of  human  interest  shall  become 
kingdoms  of  our  Lord.  Eejoice  above  all  that 
*  *  your  names  are  written  in  heaven, ' '  that  your 
fundamental  purpose  is  to  serve  him  who  shall 
reign  until  he  has  put  all  things  under  his  feet. 

It  seems  that  nothing  moved  the  heart  of 
Christ  to  exult  as  did  the  return  of  the  seventy, 
singing  their  song  of  victory  and  bearing  the 
marks  of  service.  No  other  sight  so  moves  the 
heart  of  the  world.  A  friend  of  mine  once  de- 
scribed the  scene  he  witnessed  in  Washington 
at  the  close  of  the  Civil  War.  He  was  on  the 
grandstand  when  the  armies  of  Grant  and 
Sherman  passed  in  review.  He  saw  the  victori- 
ous hosts  march  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue. 
He  described  the  intense  interest  of  the  people. 
They  were  eager  to  see  Grant  and  Sherman  and 
all  the  other  officers  whose  names  had  become 
household  words  in  the  North.  When  any  one 
of  those  men  appeared  and  was  recognized,  the 
[261] 


The  Quest  of  Life 

crowd  went  wild.  They  shouted  and  cheered 
until  the  whole  city  rang  with  joy. 

But  there  was  something  more  significant  and 
more  sacred  than  all  this.  When  the  conspicu- 
ous leaders  had  passed,  there  came  the  tramp 
and  tread  of  the  common  soldiers.  Then  the 
crowd  grew  strangely  quiet.  Here  were  the 
men  who  did  not  go  on  horseback.  They 
walked;  they  ate  the  hardtack;  they  dug  the 
ditches;  they  slept  on  the  ground,  suffering 
from  fever  and  malaria.  They  marched  out  on 
the  field  stiff  and  sore,  to  be  shot  at,  knowing 
that  many  of  them  would  fill  the  trenches  of 
the  dead.  They  kept  right  along,  doing  those 
plain  things  until  the  war  was  ended,  the  slaves 
freed  and  the  union  preserved.  The  people  did 
not  know  their  names;  they  could  not  always 
read  the  letters  on  the  flag ;  the  men  might  be- 
long to  a  regiment  from  Maine  or  they  might 
be  from  California.  They  were  the  untitled 
seventy,  the  dusty,  worn  and  weary  men  who 
had  been  doing  their  duty  in  such  heroic  fashion 
that  the  forces  of  evil  were  subject  unto  them. 
There  had  been  glad  cheers  for  the  generals 
—  now  there  were  sacred  tears  of  loving  appre- 
ciation for  the  common  soldiers. 

You  cannot  all  be  major  generals.  You 
cannot  all  ride  at  the  head  of  the  procession. 
You  cannot  all  be  apostles  and  have  churches 
at  Rome,  or  world-wide  brotherhoods  named 
after  you.  But  there  is  no  life  here  which 
may  not  catch  the  spirit  of  Christ,  enroll  him- 
self under  the  banner  of  Christ  and  by  the  use- 
[262] 


The   Rank   and  File 

ful  service  he  renders  cause  the  Saviour  to 
rejoice  when  he  sees  him  coming  up  to  render 
an  account  of  the  warfare  he  has  waged 
against  the  powers  of  evil.  May  God  help  us 
to  so  live  that  our  names  too  may  be  written 
in  heaven  and  that  Christ  may  thank  the  Lord 
of  heaven  and  earth  when  he  sees  us  pass  before 
him  in  the  great  review. 


[263] 


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